Dual Samurai
by Al Kristopher
Summary: Ruroni Kenshin-Samurai Jack crossover. The Revolution is over and peace thrives, but there are some who would upset the calm, and Kenshin becomes their target. Even the Battousai will need help, in the form of our OTHER favorite Samurai!
1. Wanderer Turned Fugitive

In the year 1867, the feudalistic era of Japan came to a close after the violent uprising conducted by Okubo Toshimichi put an end to the Tokugawa shogunate. Power was restored to the emperor, the man called Meiji, and even though he posed as little more than a national symbol (wherein the true power laid in the hands of the genro, the elder statesmen), it seemed as if the oppressive time of the shogun was over, and true government could begin under the guidance of an Imperial figurehead. Japan was allowed a sigh of relief from the slaughter and the smoke; whether the people appreciated the change or not was uncertain.

Suppressing the feudal lords, and forging a national army and economy, Okubo and Meiji transformed Japan from a backwater country into an industrial world player. The courageous bureaucrats, with bulldoggedness, iron will, and patience, wrenched control from the feudal lords in a brief but bloody revolution, organizing it to stand up to the Western lines. Many people welcomed this change, many felt apathetic and simply carried on with their lives, but there were a few people so adamant against removing themselves from their former lives that they would go so far as to assassinate the key players of the revolution.

And a few of these stubborn people had their deadly sights set on the Imperialist's most merciless weapon, the man-slayer called Himura. Even then, even as Japan was just recently breathing in the clean air of peace, plans were already being made to overthrow the emperor's dogs and the bureaucrats who had turned the country upside-down……

Dual Samurai

By Al Kristopher

1: Wanderer Turned Fugitive--Battousai Is Hunted!

Early one March day, in the year 1870, three years after the Meiji Revolution came to an end, a foreign ship could be spotted puttering into a port, parting the choppy waves and yawning its horn as it announced its arrival. The fishermen gathered around the port, most of them ignorant to the vessel or else looking on without interest, yawned and picked their teeth clean as they drudged off towards their ships to rake in their catches. It was a slow, dreary day, moist and muggy from the warmth of the sun striking the turquoise sea. Gulls cawed overhead, some diving down to steal smaller bites of fish, some causing annoyances as they flew or hopped too close to the fishermen. A young boy could be seen, chasing a gull playfully as he waited for his father to finish purchasing his very first rod.

Few people took notice of the crew of the boat pulling into the harbor. None of them were even remotely Asian, least of all Japanese, but they didn't appear to be traders either. A person with high dignity would not have been docking into that foggy wharf for any reason at all, and tourism was largely discouraged because of the tiny droplets of bad blood that were still trickling down in a few places. Yet nobody seemed to care, or to devote any of their time and thought to the circumstances of the boat. It was just there, that was all, and they needed to be out at sea as well, they soon realized.

The ship slowly docked into the harbor, coming to a halt as the gangplank lowered. There was nobody there to greet any of the passengers, so they had to step out and find their own way into the country. Many of them were taller than the short Japanese men hanging around the pier, and all of them were dressed very well, in distinguished clothes sewn from a pricey tailor's hands. Their grasp of the Japanese language was almost not there at all, since they had all come from the United Kingdom, but they had no problems hiring an interpreter. One of their number, tall and thin like a lamppost, emerged out of the crowd and sniffed at the air.

"So, this is Japan…" He said nothing else, and adjusted his derby, monocle, and cane for a walk. He made certain that he did not distance himself from the main group, who was first looking around for somebody who understood their language, and second for a diner that suited their tastes, so to speak. The thin man knew the Oriental language very well, and did not care for its food, but made sure to keep that information to himself. He was trying very hard to make sure that he was concealed and hidden, and that he did not stand out at all--and his colleagues, all two dozen of them, were helping him magnificently.

Another man, however, was not so easy to conceal. The fishermen, children, sailors, and traders scattered around the dock jerked to attention as they saw this man walk across the docks, and scrambled out of the way, as if he were a lumbering elephant. This was a very tall and muscular man, dwarfing the Japanese by at least twelve inches, with hair as wild and red as a bonfire that snaked down his back in a barely-contained tail. He had a bushy reddish mustache, and even his skin had a fiery tint to it.

He was dressed in a brown button-down tunic with a belt that kept his tough earthy trousers hooked on tight. A flowing green mantle hung over his shoulders, waving gently as he walked across the dock towards his destination. As if his size and his burning stare did not persuade the people to flee from him, an enormous double-edged iron broadsword could be seen resting in a sheath along his backside. The weapon was about as long as a ten year-old child and as wide as a fully-grown man's fist--obviously heavy, but the large man didn't seem burdened by it at all.

The thin man and the tall man each kept a distance from each other and separated without exchanging any words, one going in one direction and the other towards his own. They saw each other for only a split second, but understood that they had both arrived in Japan safely, and would get to work immediately. Nobody else knew what was going on, except to say that anyone who got in the way of the larger man would be in trouble, and the small crowd of English visitors would experience trouble on their own in the "new" country.

Either way, they had no idea of what was about to happen.

---------------

To the peaceful violet eyes of Kenshin Himura, the world was a beautiful place. For the first time in a very long while, he felt as if he could really breathe and walk without having to keep his hand on his sword all the time. After the Meiji Revolution ended, Himura slipped into obscurity and tried his best to keep his identity a secret and his past a forgotten memory. No longer was he a butcher of men, but a simple traveler who only wanted peace--the peace of walking through a forest and hearing nothing save the song of birds.

He much preferred birds and brooks over screams and the deluge of blood. Birds had a much more melodious tune, that they did, a song impossible to duplicate even by the best human musicians. The brooks that ran through the forests, calm and clear enough to drink out of, were silent and smooth, a sense of purity bubbling in them and a sense of profound metaphorical thought. It was their waters, he knew, that washed the land clean of blood, sweeping all the vermilion horrors away to make room for new life. Even the path itself, dusty and unkempt as it was, seemed beautiful and utterly innocent when compared to the bloodstained roads of Kyoto and Tokyo.

The peace of the woods didn't last long, as Kenshin soon found his wandering self wandering out of the forest and into a small town. Since there was still a jingle in his pouch, he could afford to stop and eat something before continuing on his way. He was independent enough to get by on hunting, but there was something about having a meal cooked for him that made his hunger die and the warmth inside his soul grow warmer still.

Standing out slightly due to his gi and his hair, Kenshin walked down the dusty path of the town, seeing people walking around quietly, children playing, old folks laughing, and merry merchants exchanging stories. He couldn't help but smile at just how peaceful things had gotten over the past three years (regardless of the size of the town), and how peaceful he wanted things to stay. Pretty soon, he hoped with no offense, even the police would be out of a job.

Finding a restaurant, Kenshin walked over to it and ducked inside, finding a merry establishment where people's laughter and joy swelled up even more. A beaming young man was playing a happy tune on his violin, a small cache of money already inside a small pot before him. Kenshin spared him a single coin and sat down to be served. Suddenly, just as he was getting comfortable, a large shadow overcame him, the body easily towering over his skinny frame.

"Himura!" growled the figure in front of him, a mean-looking stony-faced older man. "What did I tell you before, Himura?! Your money's not welcome here!"

"Oh?" Kenshin gave the burly man an innocent look, but in three seconds, it was mirrored by a smile of happiness.

"Yes. You get your meals for _free_ from now on! How else do you think I can repay you after you saved my daughter from the river?"

"Oh, that's quite unnecessary!" he assured him with a bright smile. "I was just doing what anyone else would do, that I did. Really, you don't have to!"

"But I _insist!_" replied the burly man, giving Kenshin a pat on the back that nearly sent him plummeting to the floor. "Please, it's my honor! And besides, you're so scrawny! You must not be eating very well! You just sit here, my dear friend, and I'll make sure you're given more than you can possibly eat!"

"But… that's really not…"

"Oh, nonsense!" bellowed the large man merrily, waving at Kenshin as he walked away to the kitchen. "Now you just wait right there, Kenshin! If you even dare to refuse my offer, I'm going to be very insulted!" He gave Himura one more smile before ducking into the kitchen, leaving the wandering swordsman to smile sheepishly.

"Oh my, we can't have that now, no sir!" Keeping his smile, Kenshin allowed himself a rare chance to rest from his travels, reclining against the wall and staring at his table emptily. He allowed his mind to wander free, his thoughts to pass as they liked, his soul to wash over with calm and tranquility. It had been a terrible storm of a revolution, where the streets were flooded with crimson life, but now things were quiet, peaceful, calm, happy. Kenshin wished that it could go on forever, but since he knew that such wishing was fanciful, he kept his sword still, a reverse blade for a reverse society.

After soaking in the violin music and the chatter of the people for ten more minutes, Himura was rewarded with a big steaming bowl of noodles, and more plates with sushi, shitake, sashimi, eggs, salmon, duck, pork, and anything else he could possibly dream of. His eyes bulged wide open as he saw just how generous his "friend" was, and let out an overwhelmed squeal as he was nearly buried with food.

"There!" shouted the burly man with a smile. "That ought to do as an appetizer!!"

"Appetizer?" moaned Kenshin. The burly man let out a big laugh.

"Yes, sir! Nothing's too good for the man who rescued my daughter! Please, Kenshin, if you need anything else, just tell me!"

"Oh, that I will!" he assured him with a smile. The burly man laughed and left Himura to his mountain of food, of which he studied with a quiet smile. He knew he could never eat so much, let alone so much if it was for free, so he only selected a few small items that would sustain him. Then again, he felt that he would insult his host if he didn't eat more, so he planned to ask for a means to take the food with him as he continued on his aimless journey.

"I almost forgot!" exclaimed a young woman suddenly as she burst in unannounced (poor Kenshin nearly gagged on his squid as he was taken by surprise). "We didn't give you a drink, did we? I hope you like oolong tea!"

"Oh, that I do, yes indeed!" Kenshin took the warm cup from the hostess, thanked her, and brought it to his mouth. Suddenly, a sneeze came to his nose, and he quickly jerked the tea away as he blasted towards a safe direction. A few droplets fell to the floor, but that couldn't have been helped.

"Oh, excuse me!" he smiled to himself. Kenshin was about to clear his throat with a gulp of the tea, when he noticed a fly hovering towards the droplet he had spilled. He curiously watched the small bug approach the puddle and splash in it with its legs, tasting the warm liquid slowly.

"Oh, I see you like oolong tea as well!" he noticed. Suddenly, to his surprise, the fly twitched violently before tumbling over on its back, its legs folded and its wings still. Kenshin's eyes widened as he looked at the dead fly, wondering just how potent that tea was. He secretly dumped the rest of his cup in a nearby bonsai, and watched studiously as the plant drank up the liquid. To his amazement and horror, the plant turned brown and wilted right before his very eyes.

"What the… Poison?" His breath sharply held inside his lungs, Kenshin hastily poked outside his private booth and scanned across the restaurant for any signs of other people suffering from the poison. His blood turned into icy daggers as he saw a group of men laughing and gulping down oolong tea, but even after several heart-stopping moments of watching them drink and eat normally, they didn't seem to faint or even cough. Kenshin sighed with relief, and concluded that only his cup had been targeted.

He then looked back at his now-empty cup, a trace of tea still on the bottom edge. Carefully, he dipped his finger into the remains of the liquid, holding it close to his nose. It had no odor to it at all, save for the scent of leaves from the oolong plant, and he dared not put a drop on his tongue for fear of its potency. He glanced to his side, wanting to alert his enthusiastic host and to interrogate the woman who brought the tea to him, but he reasoned that it would cause too much of an uproar.

"…An assassin?" he guessed, whispering to himself. Slowly, Kenshin rose up from his meal, his hunger now utterly destroyed by the tension and the sudden scare it brought to him. He wanted to at least excuse himself from his host and thank him for his meal, even though he would probably hurt the large but harmless man.

"Oh, Kenshin! Don't tell me you want seconds already!" he chuckled as he spotted the swordsman entering in the kitchen. Kenshin was not in the mood to return his smile. His purple eyes expressed his desires--to find out who had drugged his tea and why they wanted to kill him, and how they knew precisely where he was and which cup he was using--and they helped speak to the big man when his words alone failed.

"No, thank you," he said in a very serious voice. "I just remembered that I have somewhere very urgent I need to be, that I do. I'm grateful for your generosity, that I am, but I need to leave. Please forgive my urgency."

"Huh? But you just barely got here!"

"Please," begged Kenshin, his expressive eyes telling the story for him. "I need to go. It's an extremely important affair of business for me, that it is, and I cannot stay even to be with friends, that I can't. Forgive me." He bowed, and to the disappointment of his host, he left just as quietly as he came in. The burly man sighed, and decided to recall all the food that Kenshin had not eaten. The wanderer would most certainly appreciate his meal more, figured the host, if it was given to people who truly needed it.

-----

Silently, carefully, Kenshin walked down the street of the small town, his mind brewing about the recent turn of events, a frightening situation he had barely gotten out of. There were many questions but no answers concerning the failed assassination, especially considering just how professional the killer truly was. Any other assassin would have poisoned everyone else who drank the tea along with Kenshin, but this one was so precise that he (or she) had been able to pinpoint the very restaurant--nay, the very cup itself that Himura had used. Very few would have that skill or knowledge, but knowing this didn't help the former Battousai at all.

He came up with the theory that it might have been one of the former shogunate, learning of his whereabouts and striking out at him in an attempt to fulfill some ludicrous fancy of revenge. This was possible but not likely, as they would have made the mistake of killing innocents in order to affect him. The poison itself might have been iocane, an odorless and tasteless powder that dissolved instantly into liquid, but as this was rare to come by and not many people could carry around packets of it so easily, it only posed more questions.

Just as Himura was stirring the thoughts around in his head like a cauldron, he could feel a sharp stinging sensation on the very tip of his shoulder. A whistling sound pierced his ear, and what felt like a throwing knife barely grazed past him, cutting his kimono and making a tiny scar on his skin. Kenshin had no time to move or counter, so quick and surprising had the attack been, so he simply froze and stared at the knife that had found itself stuck in the ground.

Slowly, he calmed himself and regained his composure. First he glanced to the side out of the corner of his eye, then he craned his head around just so, then he whirled around sternly, his hand on the hilt of his sword. But nothing was behind him or above him except for a cloud of dark smoke. He kept staring everywhere around him, meticulously searching the entire area for the knife-thrower, but he saw nothing except people, a few of them staring right back at him. The angle of the throw indicated that he had to have been attacked from above, but nothing was there.

A second knife suddenly plunged directly next to his right foot, a whisker away from cutting the skin. Kenshin's heart raced as death and injury taunted him again, and he whirled around to face the menace. Yet there was nothing behind him either, except the distant forest and a second cloud of smoke. His senses indicated no threat at all, save for the stinging smell of the cloud, but he kept his guard up very high since he had been threatened twice without any warning.

"Who is there?" he demanded firmly. "Show yourself!" Nobody called out at him, of course, as the entire town was very quiet and nobody else knew that he was being targeted. Kenshin slowly looked around him, making sure he spared no detail in his thorough search. He saw nothing out of the ordinary, and his time spent in the Revolution had made his eyes keen to danger.

"Himura…" A haunting voice groaned out to him from behind, and as Kenshin gasped and turned around, he finally saw his assailant, or at least the one he guessed to be his assailant. He appeared to be more demon than human, covered completely in black clothes from his boots to his jacket. His skin was so dark that it was black, and his eyes burned back with a hellish light. His head, though, was painted an eerie white, like a skull's, making him resemble the very angel of death, right down to the frightening leer.

"Who are you?" whispered Kenshin, his hand clutching the hilt of his sword. The creature before him grinned, showing off rows of malicious teeth as he took a mute step towards him.

"My name is Fumus Adhvanit, one of the three most skilled assassins in this entire world. I have traveled here all the way from the pit of Hell, you could say, for the one sole purpose of finding the legendary Hitokiri Battousai, slayer of men. From the description given to me, I would say that you are he."

"No, you are mistaken," replied Kenshin firmly. "I am no slayer of men. I am just a wandering swordsman, Kenshin Himura, and I have no reason to fight you, whoever you are." The man in black chuckled darkly, crossing his arms and keeping his gaze smoldering against Kenshin's.

"It doesn't matter. You were _once_ the slayer, of that I am certain, and that's good enough for me."

"Are you the man who tried to kill me in the restaurant?" he asked at length. The man in black shook his head.

"No, it was not. It seems, Himura, that you now have _two_ assassins on your tail, and if my guess is correct, this other one is just as deadly as I am." Kenshin clenched his teeth in anger, snorting out steam as he glowered at the man in black, who suddenly appeared very amused. "I've been wondering, though, ever since I arrived here: if I killed you, would that not make me the Slayer of slayers? Hahahaha… it's an interesting thought."

"I have no quarrel with you, whoever you are," repeated Kenshin slowly, taking a single step backwards. "I have never met you and I have no reason to fight you. Why did you come all this way to kill me for? Was it because I participated in the Meiji Revolution?"

"I honestly don't care who you are or what you did," shrugged the creature in black--he could hardly be called a man at all. "All I know is that I will be paid handsomely if I slaughter you. My only purpose for coming here, Kenshin Himura, was to kill you, and nothing else. I wonder if you could best a man who is that focused…? Can you really hope to defeat a devil such as myself, a literal killing machine who has never failed before, and who pursues their prey across the oceans and the countries of the world and beyond? I would like to see it happen."

For a very long time, Kenshin and the man in black stared each other down, one smiling cruelly and the other bearing a mask of perfect concentration. The wind tickled through Himura's red hair, making it dance like a bonfire in the peaceful air. An aura of wickedness and evil, however, blew around the assassin, a man so mysterious and "concealed" that even Kenshin was wary of him. This was no man, no ordinary man at least; one who could evade Himura's stare while executing a perfect attack from any angle was definitely unique.

_That attack…_ Kenshin glared back at the man and finally spoke to him.

"If you wanted to kill me, why didn't you do it before? You wasted two chances."

"Perhaps… but it would have been too easy," he gloated. "Himura, I rarely extend mercy to my prey, but you seem to be one of which I would gladly make exception for. There would be no thrill of the hunt until you _knew_ that I was in pursuit of you--and besides, if we fought here, I might accidentally kill somebody I was not supposed to. I was asked to execute you, Himura, and it is very poor if an assassin goes outside of the barriers put around them. Consider this your last warning, slayer of men. When we meet again, you will quickly find yourself sailing down the river Styx. Farewell!"

Fumus immediately leaped away from Kenshin, his bounds as impressive as a flea's as he sailed from the ground to the rooftops. His speed was remarkable, and in a flash, the dark trail he left had been lost. Kenshin stood there for a long time, watching the trail go away and his enemy vanish, and took a deep breath as the smothering blanket of evil was lifted out of his face, replaced by the wide open atmosphere of peace.

It would not last long. If the man in black had any truth to what he was saying, Kenshin could expect to be targeted again, from _two_ different directions, and by two very lethal and precise killers who were levels above and beyond the greatest ninja or secret spy. He was not sure whether he could handle one, let alone both of them, and although he was safe for the moment, he could not afford to let his guard fall so much, as it had earlier that day. With a sigh, Kenshin turned back around and went into the forest again. He decided that he would need some help if he were to stay alive…


	2. Back to the Past

Long ago in a distant land, Aku, the shape-shifting master of darkness, unleashed an unspeakable evil on the world. But one day, a samurai warrior, wielding a magic sword, stepped forth to oppose him. The battle was long and terrible, a legendary feat pitting man against monster. Before the final blow was struck, however, Aku opened a portal in time, and flung the warrior into the future, where his evil was the law. The samurai searched the land for many years, seeking a way to return to the past, and undo the future that was Aku…

And one day, he was successful.

But fate saw to it that this warrior would not be returning to his own time--not yet, though, not just yet. He had another mission to accomplish, one last stanza to be recorded in the legend of his life. His battle with Aku was over and his search for a way into the past was completed, but the adventures of the brave samurai warrior had really only begun…

And so, one quiet day in a sleepy Japanese village, the space-time continuum was ripped asunder, and Samurai Jack found himself one step closer to home, though he knew not how much more he had to travel…

2: Back to the Past--Enter Samurai Jack from Nowhere!

A cloud of dust erupted into the air as a pair of feet crashed onto the ground, and the quiet of the sleepy country village was briefly interrupted by the sound of somebody tumbling onto the road. He had been through a terrifying ordeal--well, several if one wanted to be specific--and landing upon a dirt road seemed the least out of all of them. The man groaned and came to, rubbing his head and prying open his bleary eyes so he could see around him.

The environment he met was a beautiful contrast to the murky slums and the barren wastelands that he had become so accustomed to. It was a sleepy, quiet, rural town, with happy villagers dotted everywhere as they conducted their lives in a private manner, and as he stood up and slowly explored the town, he began to realize just where exactly he was. There were merchants selling items he actually recognized, little children running and screaming in familiar clothes--none of them were not human--old men and women were sitting around tables smoking and playing chess, houses were made out of plank and straw instead of steel and concrete…

The sky above was blue, sunny, and clear, not the dismal atmosphere of smog he had been forced to breathe. There were no flying chariots--no chariots at all, just simple carts and wheelbarrows, with simple horses and mules pulling them. There were ducks and chickens, real ducks and chickens, waddling around and singing, and men tilling the fields, and women sewing clothes, and a blessed sign he thought he would never again see in his entire life:

A complete and utter lack of wanted signs posting the large bounty on his head.

So, he took a very deep breath--a _very_ deep breath, since the air was clear and clean and smelled of cooked chicken and grass--sighed, and smiled. At last, the great warrior had come to the end of his odyssey, and found himself once again in his own land, with his own people.

"Finally," he sighed to himself, "I am home."

"Yah? Well, welcome home and be on your way now, young man!" called a voice from behind. The young man turned around quickly and saw an old woman waving him away. "Gotta harvest the crop now! Be on your way, good man!" He smiled, and allowed the old lady to pass. It was good to be among such friendly and simple folk again… but he couldn't afford to sit still for long. There was still one matter that egged at his mind, one last task he had to fulfill before he could truly draw the breath of relief. Replacing his smile with a look of serious concentration, the young man once known as Samurai Jack took a single step forward, the only direction he ever went, and continued on his journey.

Walking down dirt roads through the Japanese countryside, with nothing but hills and plains as far as the eye could see, was a saddening but welcome change from all the cold empty metallic life-forms that Jack had grown used to. It was sad because he _had_ gotten used to the dystopian landscape and now everything he had taken for granted was a pleasure, but he resolved to turn things around and make the pleasurable sights normal ones, and those from his past--or future--merely forgotten memories.

Even though he was concentrating on his task at hand, Jack couldn't help but smile a little. He had really forgotten what it was like to wander across the countryside without having to worry about bounty hunters on his trail, or robots popping out of nowhere, or blind archers or crazed Scotsmen or two-headed worms that told strange riddles. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jack expected to run into a few of his old enemies, or variations of them, and brushed his hand up against the hilt of his sword more than once. But no, nothing strange greeted him at all during his walk; just normal animals and normal scenery.

Jack was used to going down very long roads, and his legs had been trained and exercised by many years of walking, kicking, running, and leaping, so the dirt path he traveled down was like nothing to him. It was indeed a good change to really see nothing but green grass and dipping hills, and to hear the sound of crickets chirping and birds singing, as he once did when he was young. Even if he did nothing else for the rest of his life but walk down that road, he would say that he was content, and his previous troubles were worth it just for those few hours of peace.

Eventually, Jack crossed into a larger town, one with much more activity than the other and a greater population, though even this town was hushed compared to some he had chanced through during his travels in the future. He quickly noticed, however, that something was terribly amiss with the town. There were no samurai warriors patrolling the area, and many of the people did not even carry swords. There were men in strange uniforms walking around the area, the only ones who had steel blades, and the carts and the houses were much more sophisticated than the ones he had seen in his youth. There were a few merchants selling guns, something he had seen only in the future, and there were even newspapers and free pieces of scattered propaganda that had not been seen in his time.

Curious, Jack waded through the crowd, many of whom stared at him for carrying a real sword. His gi was different from everybody else's, and even his footwear seemed a bit out of date. Jack finally came to the newspaper stand he had seen earlier, and checked the date on it, wondering if he had been sent to the right place. His eyes widened open in surprise as they read **1870**, six-hundred years after his time. He was still in the future!

"What sort of trickery is this?" he asked himself. "How is it that I have traveled so far and accomplished so much, and yet I might as well be as far away from my own time as when I started out!" He sighed wearily, and put the paper down, walking away both confused and disappointed.

"I know that the time mechanism brought me out of the future, but why did it not bring me back all the way?" he wondered as he walked. "Could it be that… I have picked the wrong method home, and am here as a result? Or could there be divine powers at work here, who have guided me from the future into this era, a time which is both past and future for me…? I… cannot say… but for now, I shall assume that I have been put here for a reason. Until I find that reason, I shall have to continue my travels."

Having recently cleared things up by himself, sort of, Jack decided that it would be a good time to step inside a restaurant and refresh himself. He squeezed into the doors of the closest one, still half-expecting to be stared at by dozens of hungry bounty hunters. To his happy relief, the only people that really stared at him were a few ladies, giggling amongst themselves. The restaurant manager, a happy and chubby man who was polishing the counter, greeted him warmly with a smile.

"Ah, welcome sir! It's rare to see a person still wearing the older garbs of our country! Pray tell me, good sir, are you an officer?"

"No, why?"

"Oh, well, do you not know? The Meiji era went into effect about three years ago, and ever since, it's been illegal for the public to carry real swords. …Although I'm sure you have a good reason to carry yours!"

"Ah… yes," managed Jack nervously. "Would there… be any trouble for me?"

"Only if you start it. I don't really care for that law anyway. I say, as long as the customer's willing to pay for their meal, their business is their business. So, what can I get you today?"

"Hot tea, please."

"Of course. Coming up!" The chubby man turned around and poured a brew, while Jack sat back and allowed himself to relax. Technically, he had never been inside a restaurant before, or at least one that didn't pose some kind of a threat to him. About the only thing he had to worry about was undercooked food; nobody would be out hunting for him or looking for him, unless it was for an emergency. It was a concept that he would have to get used to.

The tea was given to Jack with a smile, who drank it with the deliberation of one wanting to enjoy every single moment of their time, as if the cup would be his last. He asked for something small but sufficient to eat, and allowed his guard to drop as he melted into the beautiful, quiet, but still very foreign world. He certainly didn't belong in 1870, though there was little he could do about it at the moment. It was poor to go out on an empty stomach and a dry throat.

As he was enjoying his drink, a very tall and very large person trudged into the restaurant. He was so big and heavy that the floor actually trembled slightly as his boots stomped down on the ground. People stared at him even more than they stared at Jack, for besides his size and his very non-Oriental dress, he was carrying a large broadsword on his back in plain view. If Jack's small sword had caused a little concern, then the bigger blade nearly caused an uproar.

As fate would have it--as fate _always_ had it--the burly man crumbled onto the seat right next to Jack's, nodding once for the hardest drink in the house. Jack couldn't help but look at the man out of the corner of his eye as he drank, though he hadn't done anything yet. The man might've been a large one, but he was also very quiet, and swallowed his drink without making a sound--or even a grimace, and he had gulped down half a cup of a very powerful alcohol.

Unlike most Orientals, the man had long flaming hair that fell down his backside in a barely-restricted tail. He had bushy red eyebrows and a bushy red mustache, and piercing green eyes that could have melted a hole in the counter. His flowing green mantle concealed most of his clothes, which were vaguely similar to the outfits that Robin of Locksley and his men had worn while Jack lived with them in Britain. His face was a middle-aged one, creased with wrinkles though obviously it had not lost its power nor its spirit. He kept to himself, though, as he drank very quietly and appeared to stay conspicuous.

Just then, three police officers burst into the restaurant, startling a few people nearby. Without wasting a moment, they marched through the building and came straight to the counter, where a chubby tender and two swordsmen awaited him.

"Umm… may I help you gentlemen?" asked the tender. The police officers ignored him and surrounded the large quiet man sitting next to Jack.

"Hey, you! Who are you? By what right do you carry a sword like that? We haven't seen you around these parts before, and we've been told to be suspicious of foreigners! So? Come on! Answer us!"

The man kept silent. He even ignored them further by swallowing more of his drink.

"Didn't you hear what we were saying?" barked another officer. "Answer us now! Who are you? What are you doing in this land? Why do you have that sword with you in broad daylight?"

He still did not answer.

"What's the matter, don't you talk? Say something!"

"I am just here for a drink," replied the man at long last. "I don't want trouble."

"Well, you seem to want it! Otherwise, why else would you be carrying that sword around?"

"Because it's mine," he answered plainly. "Do I not have the right to possess my own property when I travel?"

"This is the Meiji era, sir!" snapped one of the officers. "We have a rule stating that only government officials may carry steel swords! You're violating our laws by having that thing around!"

"But I am not under your law. I come from a foreign country, far to the northwest."

"Where you come from doesn't matter!" they stated, nearly shouting. "You're still in our country and you have to obey our laws! Who are you, anyway? It would be wise if you answered us!" The man paused for awhile to finish his drink before answering.

"I don't think you want me to tell you," he mumbled. The man had a bass voice, very low and earthy like a giant's, and as deliberate and cordial as any nobleman's. He resembled one of the Scotsman's kin just faintly, except he was even taller and more muscular than they, and not nearly as loud.

"You had best cooperate!" they snapped, their hands wrapping around the sheaths of their sword. The people in the restaurant scattered away, sensing that trouble would start any moment, and even the tender ducked under the counter. Jack kept his silence and his distance, doing his best to conceal his own weapon away from the small squad. It was a strange rule that only the officials could carry swords, but he could understand how a civilization would want to gravitate towards peace. It would be better to be charged with that than for the police to turn him in to Aku, anyway.

"…Do you really want to know?" asked the man, as if the answer was something dreadful. Slowly he stood up, towering over the guards easily as he gazed down at them. They showed no fear as they stared back at him--yet. "…All right, if you really insist," he replied at long last. "My name is Rygar… They call me Rygar the Red."

"What?! No! That… can't be!" At once, the guards flew into shock, their faces pale and their eyes as wide as dinner-plates. Their entire bodies began to shake, their hands and knees more than anything, and if it were not for their convulsions, one would think that they had been turned into stone from fear. Jack gazed at the three officers and the large man, and since he had never heard the name before, he didn't know why the police were so petrified. The large man was as stoic as ever, though.

"I… see…" squeaked one of them. "Well… ehh… c-carry on, s-sir!" At once, the officers bolted out of the room, scrambling over each other in a mad attempt to get as far away from the building--or even the country itself--as possible. Surprisingly, the people who had been eating and laughing just five minutes ago were now making a mad dash for the door as well, screaming and yelling in horror as they retreated from something that seemed as dreadful as Aku himself, leaving only the large man in question and a very puzzled samurai.

With a snort, the man called Rygar picked up a cloth and wiped his mouth with it. He flipped a coin onto the abandoned counter and gave Jack a curious gaze, obviously wondering why the samurai had not bolted as well. For awhile, they both looked at each other, both of them as confused as the other. It was Jack who spoke first, though the speech itself was poor.

"Um… ex…cuse me, sir… ahh… but… who are you?"

"You do not know?" Jack shook his head. "Hmm… then I envy you. You have the privilege of not knowing who and what I am. That's rare in these days, as you've just seen. Even people who live in a country that I've never been to have heard of me. I really don't blame them for their reception of me, though. It's just to be expected."

"But who exactly are you?" wondered Jack. "Why were those people so afraid of you?" The taller man grumbled to himself, and looked around the room with his penetrating emerald eyes before beckoning with a shake of his shaggy head.

"Come outside," he said. "It's useless to be in here anyway. Of course, now that there are people who know that I'm here, we won't fare much better outside. But it's a warm day." Jack mentally agreed, and cautiously followed the large man outside, where--true to his warning--the people scattered and hid as they walked down the road. Even the police were not immune to the fear, and stood at a great distance as they watched the large man slowly leave their town, still trembling.

"I apologize," said Jack as he walked beside Rygar. "I am a foreigner here, and I have never heard of you before, or about any of your deeds."

"You do not look foreign," he argued, shaking his head. Jack looked down at his gi and sandals. "And you do not sound foreign."

"Well… that is… difficult to explain…"

"No more difficult than not knowing who and what I am," noted Rygar. Jack nodded his head.

"Yes. But tell me, who _are_ you?"

"My name you know," replied the taller man. "But my name is what made me infamous. To put it coldly and simply, I am known as Rygar the Red because red is the color that many people associate me with. Red is the color of my hair, because I come from the Irish countryside; red is the color of blood, which I have caused to spill over into floods and deluges; red is the color of fire, which I have brought onto countless towns and villages, even entire cities. Yes, I am Rygar the Red, an unstoppable monster of a man who does not know pain, or fear, or emotion, or distraction--only carnage."

Jack only looked up at him for a brief while before speaking.

"I do not think you are what you claim, Rygar. How is it that one man can possibly accomplish all of that?"

"I wish to say no more to you," muttered the tall man. He stopped in his tracks and turned around, peering at Jack very carefully. Excusing his actions, he gently took Jack's face in his hand and looked over it very carefully, paying special attention to his cheeks.

"What are you looking for?" asked the samurai. Rygar snorted softly and released him.

"I am looking for a man with a cross-shaped scar on his cheek. I didn't suppose you were him, since he has long red hair, even more red than my own, but I had to make sure."

"A man with a cross-shaped scar on his face?" Rygar nodded his head.

"I have business with him. I traveled all the way here from my home so I could conduct my business with him."

"And… what business would that be?" murmured Jack darkly, his hand slowly going for his blade. If there was any truth to what Rygar had just told him--if he really was a destructive person--than a business meeting with somebody would most certainly lead into further destruction. Jack did not know the man with the scar, nor did he even know the man in front of him, but he could not go against his code and ignore a person in potential danger.

"Don't think you can defeat me with that sword, young man," warned Rygar emptily. "I know what is on your mind. You want to stop me from finding this man. I don't think you can. You do not know what I am like in the full carnage of battle." Jack's eyes squinted and his eyebrows curled downward in an angry glare as he watched Rygar reach behind him and slowly pull out his long broadsword, creating a delicious song of metal as he unsheathed it.

The blade was almost three times as long as Jack's, and three times wider as well, so it must have been incredibly heavy. The steel it was constructed from was so pure and strong that it could have split a boulder in half without receiving a dent, and even though Rygar claimed to be a destroyer, it looked as clean and polished as a sword hot from the forge. Its size and weight didn't seem to affect Rygar at all, because he easily hefted the massive sword in one hand.

__

WHOOSH! WHOOSH!

And in two effortless strokes, one horizontally and one vertically, he cleaved a nearby tree apart, splitting it into three sections and sending it crashing to the ground. Rygar looked as if he had just swatted at a fly; the tree itself had been as wide around as Jack, and several times taller. It had been a strong and mighty plant, but two simple strokes rendered it wasted upon the ground.

"Do not follow me," warned Rygar as he returned his sword to his sheath. "Not if you wish to live. That tree was great and proud, and would have exhausted any normal man who wanted to chop it down. Even a skilled lumberjack would have been cutting at it all day before he felled it, and the greatest would have used more than two strokes to perform what I have--and yet this was an effortless action on my account, the same force that you may use to slap a mosquito. I hope you learn from this, swordsman. I would not like to fight you since I only have business with that man. Good day."

Rygar nodded his head once and turned around to leave the village, sending the people scattering and screaming. A few people around Jack's area cautiously crept up to the butchered tree, gawking in amazement at the ease of its destruction. Some even came up to Jack, wondering how it was like to stand next to Rygar the Red without cowering. The samurai quickly became flooded with noise, and plowed his way through the crowd in an attempt to escape. It was not just the crowd he wanted to run from, it was the town.

He knew that, no matter what, he had to find the man with the cross-shaped scar on his cheek, and warn him of the coming danger.


	3. Hunted by Three

There was a hasty addition to Kenshin's step as he walked away from the village. It wasn't as if he feared the killers who were after him, he just feared for the safety of the people in the village. If he was forced to defend himself, he didn't want anybody else getting involved. After all, the one who nearly poisoned him might not be so precise the next time, nor the man in black so merciful. He had to distance himself from human contact for awhile, but he was used to being in solitude, since he was a wanderer.

As Kenshin walked away from the town, he began to think. The people who were after him were not ordinary assassins, and they didn't always rely on elaborate methods to slay their targets. The man in black had taunted Kenshin psychologically by deliberately telling him that he was now hunted, thus keeping the wanderer's guard up all through the exhausting day. The poisoned tea example, while ineffective at first, proved that Kenshin could not even trust the stuff that kept him alive and refreshed. His only real solace was the thought that only two men were after him, but this would soon be broken.

3: Hunted By Three--Kenshin's Unlucky Meeting!

As Kenshin walked through the countryside, he began to consider why the two killers were after him. They most likely had no personal vendetta against him, and if circumstances were different, they might have even passed as friends. No, somebody else wanted him dead--probably for what he did during the Revolution. Kenshin understood that sometimes the past was hard to let go of (especially considering that only three years of peace had passed, and a few people didn't even know about the decree yet), but he didn't understand why his death would justify anything. Vengeance brought nothing but more blood for the earth to soak up, sewing the seeds of even more hatred.

As frivolous as the idea was, the only thing that really mattered was his own survival. There was probably little chance of him negotiating with the killers, especially since they both seemed to prefer stealth, and he feared having to break his code of no killing already. The only thing he could do was move forward and take things as they came.

Fittingly enough, a well-sized boar crossed his path just then as he wandered down the road, snorting softly and sniffing for mushrooms. He smiled and watched it for awhile as he rested from walking, content to wait for it to pass rather than disturb it. Suddenly, to his astonishment, the porker took a few more shuffling steps forward and vanished! Kenshin was surprised and investigated the area carefully, first from a distance and then at close range, and found that the boar had fallen into a hole. The hole was not very deep, but a gruesome fate awaited those that fell in, for several long spikes were adorned at the bottom. Kenshin looked away from the impaled boar in disgust.

"What a terrible thing to do," he mused quietly. "This was not a trap set to catch boars, though; this is out in the open, where anybody can walk into it. But why would anybody want to do something so terrible, especially if a child came across this?"

"That trap was not meant for a child," came a sudden voice from above. Kenshin looked up and saw a very tall, muscular man looming over him, a stern look in his older face and a flame in his eyes. He looked like a woodsman, including the green cape, but he had a very large sword that was a design Kenshin had never seen before.

"What's that?" said Kenshin as he looked at the stranger. "Are you saying that you know who this trap was designed for?" The stranger nodded his head slowly.

"Yes. It was designed for the Hitokiri Battousai, the one called Himura." Kenshin's eyes glazed over briefly with a dark sparkle, and his face became hard and focused as he stared back at the man.

"How would you know all that?"

"I wasn't the one who constructed the trap if that's what you're asking," said the man with a shrug. He grunted, and tilted his head to the other side as he glanced at Kenshin's face. His eyebrow raised as he seemed to recognize something. "Ah, I see that _you're_ the man I've been looking for. Well, now that I see you, I don't see how I could've missed you in the first place. You stand out quite a bit, little Kenshin."

Kenshin couldn't help but grimace in comical confusion as the man called him "little".

"Augh… so you know who I am?"

"I do."

"And you say this trap was meant for me?"

"It was. It's useless now, of course."

"I see. And do you know who put it there?" The man nodded his head.

"Sort of. He's a very tricky person. He's keeping his identity secret from you in order to better execute you. Unlike a few others I know of, he doesn't take a thrill in the fact that you know his identity; it's the other way around."

"And how did you come about all this information?" demanded Kenshin, almost spitting out his words. The large swordsman rubbed the area underneath his nose and sniffled up something.

"Kenshin Himura, I know it because I am one of the three men who have been hired to kill you."

"Huh?" whispered he, his eyes widening and his pulse chilling. "Did you say _three_?"

"Yes, there are three," replied the large one, "though odds are, I'm probably the only one you met. I don't even know exactly when it was that you learned you were a target for assassination, though I doubt it was just now."

"No…" he murmured, his hand tickling the hilt of his blade and his violet eyes locked straight onto the large man. "I escaped death twice today earlier, once when I discovered my drink was poisoned and another when a man in black made his introductions."

"That appears to be all three," he muttered, nodding his head. "You must know the man in black, then. I am Rygar the Red, though I'm sure the name means nothing to you. You can just think of me as an Anglo-Saxon version of yourself, except about twenty-five years older." The man called Rygar became quiet suddenly, allowing Kenshin to register everything he had heard. Once he was satisfied, he spoke again.

"I think I understand everything except one thing. Why are you telling me all this? Is it more psychological attacks?"

"No, I don't work that way," muttered Rygar. "Besides, what good would it do? You already know you're being pursued; what more will one more reminder do for you? As for myself, I'm only doing the polite thing and answering your questions, or at least those I choose to answer."

"Then do you know why I am a target for assassination?" asked the former killer, desperate for answers. There was still a chance that his theory could be wrong…

"Lately," sighed Rygar, looking more weary than he was before, "I've become a more moral person; a person with stronger morals, I mean. I've tried to make it a habit of mine to ask why I am going after somebody, so I don't kill without knowing why. I know what you did for the Imperialists, and how you overthrew the shogun's feudal system and replaced it with this new order, and I have nothing against that. The world needs to change, or else kowtow to those in power.

"It appears, though, that in the process of being a slayer of men, you have inadvertently killed several people of very high reverence. Their survivors asked myself and two other assassins that have no affiliation with me to avenge the deaths of their loved ones. Bear in mind, former Battousai, it is not just those clinging to the past who hate you. Many good men died in that revolution, leaving their families behind with nothing to stand on. They are considered the equivalent of flies, Kenshin, these remnants of the people you killed, and while revenge may be wrong, it will console them a little. I understand how they feel."

Absolute silence.

"…I see…" murmured Kenshin, after a very long and quiet pause. There was no need to say anything else; Rygar had said it all. It was deep and even profound enough on its own; Kenshin didn't need to add anything else to it. "I suppose that people have the right to prosecute me for what I did, even though I performed my duties without objection or favor. My purpose was pure, though I do not deny that I once slaughtered without mercy so that this purity I claim could be achieved."

"I'm glad you understand, former killer of men," said Rygar with a nod. "As I do not like to be uninformed, I don't think you would much like it if people came after you without you knowing why. With that said, I have one more warning to show you." And just as he demonstrated a portion of his strength for another samurai just a few moments before, Rygar effortlessly split a large and powerful tree into three parts, amazing Kenshin considerably.

"The next time you see me," he said as the dust and leaves settled, "I will do that to you. Of course, by that time, the other two assassins will have failed. I don't wish to fight you, Kenshin, because I above everybody else can understand your Battousai mind. You and I are very much alike, my boy--I could even be called your father, in a sense. But I have my job and now I have my reasons. I hope we never meet again, wandering samurai, because then it will be for your grievous destruction."

And without another word said, at least from his mouth, the feared man known as Rygar the Red kept on walking in the direction Kenshin had come from, slowly but surely putting a greater distance between himself and the smaller, younger man. Kenshin didn't bother to stop him; he was simply frozen there as he absorbed everything the stranger had told him, from the triad of killers who were after him to the reason why he was being hunted, and especially the very last part, about empathizing with him.

Kenshin slowly came back to life and walked forward, at a much slower pace than usual (considering that two more killers were still after him). He stepped over the tree, taking notice of how precise the cut had been, and continued on his way. He was certainly not sure what he would be doing next, though finding somebody to help him stay alive would become a big priority. Unbeknownst to him, however, that "somebody" would come to him sooner than he would believe, in the form of the best and most skilled person to have for a situation such as his.

----------

His sandals making fast tracks in the dirt, Samurai Jack ran from place to place, looking for the man with a cross-shaped scar on his cheek and asking everybody he found about the man's whereabouts. His darkest dread was contemplating if the man had already met his end and had been forced off the mortal coil in the most barbaric method possible…


	4. The Two Samurai Meet

There were now three assassins after the man who was once a Battousai--only three, but it would be more than enough to cripple even the legendary man-slayer. Kenshin had passed through the flames of the Meiji Revolution with few scars to show for it, but even in times of peace, new challenges and new dangers would await him. Whether their purpose was noble, wicked, or a mixture of both, the three killers each only had one purpose while in Japan, and that was the destruction of the Battousai. Such an unhindered motive would be difficult to overcome alone.

On the other hand, there was another legendary samurai in the area, one who had gone through just as much turmoil and chaos as the first. He was known only as Jack, the legendary warrior who dared stand up to the evil of Aku and everything the wicked wizard stood for. He was a strong man, both of body, heart, and mind, and even though he was a stranger in his very own land for the second time in his life, he could not ignore a threat on another man's life, so he ran in search of a person around his age, with a cross-shaped scar on his cheek.

The three killers were masters in a world of chaos, death, and constant change. They were swift, silent, and merciless, like the quasi-human Fumus Adhvanit. They were powerful, patient, infamous, and feared, like Rygar the Red. They were also very clever and thoughtful, attentive to every detail while keeping their own identity a secret, such as the case of the third killer. The three of them would have been able to overthrow either samurai if they had worked together, but in a match of two against three, none could determine the victor.

So Samurai Jack kept running in search of the other man, and Kenshin kept his guard up as he distanced himself from other people. It only seemed natural, therefore, that fate should desire the two swordsmen to meet. The only question… was how.

4: The Two Samurai Meet: An Encounter of the Ages

Jack slowed down and came to a halt as he rested on a large boulder. He had just finished with a thorough search of the last town and found nothing except false leads and dead ends. He was tired of looking and wanted to find somewhere to eat (he hadn't had anything in his stomach for quite a while), but since a man's life was in potential danger, he knew he couldn't rest for long. There was a big nagging sensation in the back of his mind that the unknown stranger was dead already, but he soon figured that if a man was dangerous enough to have that great big man sent after him, he must've survived.

Jack remembered just how many bounty hunters and potential assassins had went after him. Very few of them even came close to success; most of them were defeated like so many flies from a swat. Knowing only the strengths of the man he met earlier, Jack assumed that the other man in question would need help. Even he enlisted aid several times from strangers and friends back in the futuristic era, so it wasn't like it would be foreign territory for him.

After taking a deep breath and resting his legs, Jack stood up and began to walk down the dirt path again, seeing nothing but countryside everywhere he looked, and a tiny dot of a town in the far distance. The land around him was flat and open without any hills or mountains to add dimension to it. There was just grass and wheat, and a large plot for farming close to the town. He had rarely entered into a countryside where the land was utterly two-dimensional, even in his own time period. On the plus side, he could see whoever approached him easily, and one person was coming right his way.

As Jack walked closer to the other person, he could see him easier and easier. The man wore a gi similar to Jack's, except it was red and light violet, and he had wild fiery-red hair that trailed down his back like the tail of a phoenix. Jack vaguely recalled the large Rygar referring to a man with red hair when he mentioned who he was looking for, and for awhile, Jack believed this man to be him. As they got close enough to actually see each other clearly and call out to each other, the samurai noticed the man had a cross-shaped scar on his left cheek.

"Oh! Good day to you!" greeted the other man with a polite smile. "Are you heading into town? It's a very lovely place and the food is excellent, but if you see a large man in a grumpy mood, just tell him I'm sorry I had to run out on him, that I am." Jack couldn't help but smile a little, though he didn't know what the other man spoke of.

"I will… keep that in mind. Excuse me, sir, but I couldn't help but notice that you have a peculiar mark on your face…"

"…Oh…" The redheaded man glanced down towards his face, and then back towards Jack, his hand gradually slithering towards his sword. Jack saw it and immediately apologized.

"No, you do not understand. I have not come to harm you. I have come to warn you that you are in danger."

"I already knew that," stated the other man. "But how did you?"

"Because I met someone earlier today who spoke of fighting a man that bears your description. He was quite a large man, with an incredibly big sword and a deep, low voice. His name was--"

"Rygar the Red, correct?" said the other. Jack looked back at his fellow samurai in astonishment.

"Ah, so you have met him too! Then it seems my warning comes too late. Tell me, if you don't mind my asking, who are you and why are those people after you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't introduce myself!" The man smiled again, seemingly ready to accept Jack as a friend--or at least _not_ as an enemy--and bowed. "I'm Kenshin Himura, that I am, just a simple wandering swordsman. I'm not sure why those people are after me, but I'm guessing that it's because of something I once did in the past!"

"Kenshin Himura…" Jack rolled the name around in his head for awhile, testing it and finding it pleasant to say and hear. It was a good name. "I am called Jack, also a wandering swordsman."

"Well, fancy that!" exclaimed Kenshin, smiling warmly and scratching his head. Jack half-smiled and got straight to the point.

"You mentioned 'those people'… Is there more than one person after you, sir Himura?"

"I'm afraid so," he muttered, lowering his head to stare at the path. "I also spoke with that man called Rygar, and he seemed willing to tell me what I needed to know. I have three people after me now, and from what I can gather, they're all very skilled. Tell me…" He paused, staring hard at the ground as his concentration wavered between the man before him, the path below him, and the fight ahead of him. "…Why have you come to me?"

"No matter what sort of thing you have done in the past, I cannot allow any man to fight such foes single-handedly. I am on a quest to return to my home, and during my quest, I have helped many similar people face their own troubles, many times ending with great success. It would go against my code as a samurai if I did not help those in need, even if those in need are capable of defending themselves."

"You're very kind and generous, Mr. Jack, that you are," replied Kenshin with a smile. "I know it's odd since we're strangers, but I appreciate your help, that I do. I think I might even need it this time, that I will!"

"Then you will let me help you?"

"Oh yes, I would appreciate it very much, that I will!" Kenshim smiled, and he and Jack shook on it. Fate was indeed amused as the two samurai of legends finally met and teamed up, and wondered what sort of troubles and spoils they would see now that their swords were both under the same banner.

Just then, Jack's stomach growled.

"Forgive me," he muttered bashfully, "but I have not eaten in awhile. I was hoping I would find some place to dine for awhile…"

"Oh, that's not necessary!" exclaimed Kenshin. He then held up the bags of food that the keeper of the restaurant had given him, all the leftovers he took with him in his hasty departure. "It's not much, but if you can find a quiet spot to share this with me, then we can have a fine meal, that we could!" Jack smiled warmly at Kenshin's generosity, and led the way from the path into the endless field of grass. He wanted to know more about the young man, as he wanted to tell him things about himself, so a private picnic between two samurai warriors seemed the best time for it.

----------

After settling down and getting some food, Jack and Kenshin shared as much about themselves as they were comfortable, each going no further than necessary when describing themselves. Kenshin didn't mention his bloody past, and Jack never spoke of his time-traveling adventures, but they still had lots to talk about. Both men immediately became connected and found each other very agreeable, though they began to become curious about each other's sword skills. Kenshin assured Jack that they would both get a good demonstration once they were fighting off the killers.

Kenshin liked Jack, a more quiet and reserved samurai with as many scars on his body and soul as he himself; Jack liked Kenshin's friendliness, and was glad to finally be in the company of another samurai warrior, especially one who was as skilled and humbled as he. Jack was used to people trying to imitate him or challenge him, but it was rare to find somebody so similar and yet so unassuming. If anybody saw the two swordsmen talking to each other as they rested in the grass, they would've assumed that the two had been friends for years.

As they ate, Kenshin and Jack heard somebody walking down the dirt path towards the town (the same one that Kenshin came from and Rygar entered into). Neither could help but take a peek out of the corner of their eye to see who it was, even though it probably wouldn't be anybody special. It turned out to be a tall, thin man of foreign origins, a stately-looking gentleman with a light-blue suit on made of the best fabrics. He had a pale-blue bowler hat on his brown hair, a cane decorating his left hand, a curly brown mustache, and a monocle over his right eye. The man didn't seem to be Japanese, though only Jack could guess at his origin.

The thin man paused briefly as he caught the dining swordsmen out of the corner of his own eye, and turned his head to get a better look at them. He first crossed his eyebrows in confusion (by this time, the stares that Jack and Kenshin were giving him were permanent, since they knew he had spotted him), then squinted in what seemed to be anger or perhaps uncertainty. He strayed from the path immediately and waded through the grass, approaching them at a precise pace that any military drill sergeant would be proud of.

"Yes, hello, may we help you?" greeted Kenshin as soon as the man was within hearing range. He grumbled, and spoke a language that neither of them knew. The man cleared his throat, and with great strain, drawled out a very poor grasp of the Japanese dialect.

"Forgive. English. No speak language. Annoyance. Man?" He pointed to Kenshin, who blinked back in confusion for awhile.

"Oh, excuse me! I'm just a wanderer, sitting down here with my friend for a picnic. Would you care to join us?"

"I understand your dialect perfectly well," said Jack quietly, using the tall man's speech. He gave a wiry smile, and cleared his throat again, letting Jack interpret where he could.

"Yes, what a good relief that you know what I am saying. I was afraid that I'd have to scour the entirety of this backwards country in search of an interpreter, but it looks as if I am in luck. Tell me, perchance, was that mark on your face given to you by birth, or battle, or by accident?"

"Why do you want to know?" murmured Kenshin, reaching for his reverse blade. He had become awfully suspicious of people asking about his distinguishing trait, ever since learning of his potential killers. They were each given a single sign to determine their target from the rest of the populace--his scar--so Kenshin had a right to be cautious whenever somebody asked about it.

"Oh, I apologize, it wasn't my place to ask," muttered the man, via Jack's translation. "I was just, ermm… curious, that's all. Forgive me; as you can see, I am a foreigner in these parts. My name is Melville Ernst Drakemoth, and I and my associates have made it a habit of ours to visit the Orient once a year. I'm afraid that my Japanese has become a bit rusty since then."

"Oh, that's all right!" said Kenshin warmly. "It seems as if my friend here understands you, that he does! Would you like to join us for something to eat?"

"No, terribly afraid I must decline," coughed the thin man as he gestured to them with his cane. "You see, I have a bit of an appointment to make. A terrible waste, though; I am rather famished. Thank you though, young man, but t'will be the death of me if I am late. Well, goodbye." The man tipped his hat and parted, leaving Kenshin and Jack feeling good. He certainly seemed to be a friendly man, and an adventurous one as well to ignore the warnings set up by government officials. Tourists were discouraged because of the lingering bitterness left over from the war, but Melville Drakemoth had been determined to come again no matter what.

"That was a welcome deterrent from our day," said Jack. He and Kenshin smiled and continued to eat their food, but as Jack was filling his mouth with hot tea (his own brand, since Kenshin was still a bit wary), he noticed a small circular object in the grass that resembled a coin. He assumed that their temporary guest had dropped it, and hoisted it up in the air as he shouted out.

"Sir! You have dropped your coin!" Suddenly, the object began to glow red and beeped rapidly. Coming from the futuristic age, Jack immediately knew what a beeping sound meant and tossed the coin in the air as hard as he could. It exploded into a violent burst of flame, erupting in the sky like a firework, spewing sparks and debris everywhere, and startling everyone in the area. Kenshin gawked at the cloud of black smoke and flame, and realized that were it not for Jack's quick thinking, that explosion could have went off in their area!

When the two swordsmen stared at Melville to see his reaction, they saw a deadly glare of infuriation. He was _not_ pleased.

"YOU!!" Kenshin and Jack each drew their swords, the magical bane of evil and the reverse blade, and ran towards the scowling man at full speed. They had both immediately figured out his true identity, that of Kenshin's third killer, and didn't want to waste any chances with him. As they closed in on the wiry man, however, he pointed his cane at them and produced a revolver from his suit. The cane was really a rifle in disguise!

"Stop!! I am an excellent marksman and could shoot the fleas off a dog's back at fifty yards with these, and they are aimed straight towards your heads!"

"You speak Japanese!" exclaimed Kenshin in a surprised whisper. Melville snorted angrily.

"Of _course_ I do! You don't think I'd actually enter into a country for a long period of time without knowing how to speak its language! My dear samurai, I know more world languages than you have fingers or brains to count them with, and a thousand times more that number concerning methods of execution. Yes, there's no point in hiding it now since you're so bloody clever--_I_ am one of your killers. I assume you have met the other two!"

"Then you are the man who tried to poison my tea, and who tried to trap me in that hole!"

"Well, your skills at deduction are admirable," he moaned sarcastically. "Yes, I'm rather disappointed that you have been wise enough to avoid my attempts. I usually complete my job on the first run, though you two seem to have the devil's luck with you. No matter; all luck runs dry in the end."

"No more talk from you!" stated Jack as he stepped forward. Melville snorted at him, turning his nose up so high that Jack could almost see inside it. He kept both guns aimed at the swordsmen, his hold on them not shaking at all, keeping them steady instead. He fired off a single round aimed at the tip of Jack's head, cutting off the pin that kept his hair up and releasing it. The samurai froze and stared wide-eyed at the man, and did not move a step further.

"As much as killing you both right at this very minute would please me, it's not my style," said Melville, taking a very slow step backwards. "I shall then make my get-away, leaving the two of you alive until you run across one of my devices. Believe me, there are nastier things in store for you besides bombs and poisoned tea--and that includes both of you! I originally wanted the man with the scar, but since the other one had to get involved as well," (he was pointing to Jack, of course) "I will eliminate you both. But not now. I must retreat, but remember, the battle does not end if the pawns are taken. Good day."

Melville Drakemoth bowed low, tipping his bowler hat as he slowly shirked away. Jack and Kenshin didn't want to let him go so easily and closed in on him with their swords drawn, but Drakemoth had a solution. He quickly reached into his bowler and threw out a cloudy powder at the two samurai, blinding them temporarily as he ran. They coughed and waved the yellowy smoke away as they ran after the thin man, who was nowhere near as fast as either nimble samurai.

Melville came to a forest that was far to the north of the path, a good distance away from the town, with Jack and Kenshin still pursuing them, their clothes and hair covered with the yellow powder still. They soon caught up with Melville and saw him spraying something on his own body, then he swatted at something in the air and ran even faster. Jack and Kenshin covered their faces as the object fell to the floor, and the tables were instantly turned on them as they realized that Drakemoth had disturbed a hive of bees.

And as they looked down at their yellowy bodies, they realized they were not covered with powder, but with _pollen!_

"Run!" Jack and Kenshin bolted the other way, sprinting as fast as possible so as to not be overwhelmed by the flying insects. A large swarm of them, covering the sky and buzzing after them at an angry speed, followed them both on a quest of starving vengeance. Drakemoth, it seemed, knew that the hive was there all along, and covered them in the pollen while spraying himself with a type of bee repellant, giving him a perfect escape route.

Outrunning the bees but not by much, Kenshin and Jack found a large storehouse in the distance they could retreat into. Putting all their energy in their speed, the two samurai warriors raced across the grassy plains, hopped over the dirt path, and slipped inside the shed, slamming the door on it and barely shielding themselves from the bees. They could still hear the angry hive buzzing outside, but for the moment, they were safe. Breathing out two sighs of relief, the samurai slumped down on the floor, their previous chase wasted and their situation even worse than before. They were now back to square one, a silent square reserved for taking deep breaths, planning, and suddenly remembering that all the food was still out there at the mercy of the bees.

"_Grr…_"

"Augh, I… nearly forgot!" wailed poor Kenshin, referring to their lost picnic. He gave Jack a smile of defeat, and slumped even further down, wishing that he had taken that restaurant manager's offer for a free meal. Jack sighed, and leaned up against the door, his stomach as angry as ever.


	5. Where There is Smoke

Kenshin and Jack did not emerge from the barn until they were absolutely certain of their safety. As they slowly swung the door open, they were greeted with a scent of loss and defeat, though the gentle winds that blew in got rid of the foul odor. After getting only one sniff of the stink, everything else was a relief. It smelled like grass and ripe wheat again, a deep, rich, and earthy smell that could be inhaled like wine could be drunk and intoxicate the senses.

There was also silence, since the leaping insects of the field were the only ones who held dominance. The sky above was blue with long streaks of white softly scarring it; the ground resembled a very sleepy old man, yawning with years and experiences that were piling on his back yet merrily smiling and waiting to see what else would be added to the pile. The prints of the man that they had encountered were either lost or too faint to see, as wrinkles become obscured in an elder's features. So, without anything to follow and little to do save go forward, Kenshin and Jack did exactly this.

"He's gone," said Kenshin, though Jack wasn't quite sure if he really spoke to him. "Well… then I guess that's that. There isn't anything we can really do, and I'm not one to wait for someone to strike first, that I'm not."

"I agree," replied the slightly-older samurai. "A wise man once said that a blade of grass in the wind is more difficult to catch than one in the ground. We should be moving if we are to avoid detection, but not to find our enemy. I do not believe that these are the type of people who can be easily hunted."

"…No," agreed Kenshin flatly. "That they most certainly are not. Well, Jack, as I am a wanderer, I will continue as such and see where the roads take me."

"And I, as a fellow wanderer, will follow the same path." Kenshin smiled, and both he and his companion set out on the road, their only destination being the horizon before them. The one true perk of a drifter like them was that their destination was wherever their travels took them--they didn't know where they were going until they got there. Needing the safety of the open road anyway, they set out and distanced themselves from the town.

5: Where There is Smoke--The Two Samurai Begin Their Journey

The Japanese countryside was beautiful. The flat grassy lands that Jack had passed through slowly gained dimension as the two warriors wandered down a path that only they had constructed. At first, the land slowly dipped down into bowl-like valleys and rose up again into tiny dome-shaped hills, like a big emerald blanket that had been ruffled and tossed a little. Then, the mountains rose up in the distance, slowly and timidly at first, but a few were mighty and imposed as sentinels and guardians to the left and right of the warriors.

Sometimes, the grasses would fade and bodies of water would overtake them. The bodies sometimes made tiny lakes where the valleys were especially low, or some trickled down the emerald pathway as streams, making their own path as liquid wanderers. There were snakes of water branching off into many tributaries, some of them truly resembling the twigs of trees as they jutted here and there, descending down from a source on higher ground. A large pond, big enough to have fish in it (none bigger than their hands, probably), greeted them casually as they waded through a different kind of sea.

The grass sometimes became watery and thick, soaking the samurais' kimonos as they pushed through the reeds and went around marshes. Frogs and cranes came out as the addition to the presence of the flying crickets, some of them dining on their fellow choral members as they added their own groaning and wailing melodies. A _braap_ would come up every often, or a _kyee_ as bird and amphibian splashed through the waters. The _sst-sst-sst_ sound of grasshoppers was a delightful background instrument, and coupled with the gush of water, it made a beautiful song that could never be heard nor replicated anywhere else.

Through more marshes, and past the grasses, Kenshin and Jack sometimes came across flat areas of rock where no plants could grow. At first, the land was level and bland, grayed with the neutrality of stone, but soon even this began to take shape, though not in curves or waves like the grass had. These dimensions were sharper, more jagged, almost foreboding in a sense, and not quite as enjoyable to cross. Both Kenshin and Jack had years of experience as wanderers under their belts (some would even say the experience was on their sandals), so they didn't mind crossing rocks or anything else. Besides, it was a part of nature, and a welcome change from town life.

The two samurai wandered through the beautiful and ever-changing countryside of Japan for the better part of the day, making little conversation and resting whenever they found a good supply of food. Fish (or the occasional roebuck) provided them with a variety of foodstuffs, and when it looked as if evening would fall at last (and the moon came out of hiding to show its haunted, pale face at the world once again), they decided to sleep out under the stars. It was a welcome change for Jack, who had almost gotten used to sleeping in a filthy Aku-infested city.

With a fire lit and some small fish frying next to it, both samurai kept silence to themselves as they stared at the dancing flames. They both had a habit of dreaming monotonously into a roaring fire, and if anybody else were there instead, they would have pressed them to go ahead and rest. Truth be told, Kenshin and Jack were very similar, and did not need much conversation at all to know what the other was thinking. Eventually, though, Jack crawled away from the fire and rested first, since he had been deprived of sleep the most. Kenshin stayed up for an extra five minutes before nodding off himself.

Jack and Kenshin woke up refreshed, but a burning smell in the air stirred them to concern. There was a scent of smoke spreading out from somewhere; perhaps the east since the wind was blowing from that direction. Both samurai knew the odor well, and gave each other a wary look as they recognized it as the kind of smoke produced by a large fire.

"Do you smell that?" asked Jack. Kenshin nodded his head.

"It's too powerful to come from a single source, that it is. There's lots of smoke in the air…" Just as they were contemplating what the cause of pollution was, a person leaped up from the distant horizon and ran towards them, screaming and flailing their arms desperately. Both samurai ran to catch up with him, and arrived just as the poor exhausted man fainted from weariness.

"Are you okay? What is the matter?" asked Jack. The man was too busy wheezing and sputtering out nonsensical words to make any sense.

"Town… fire… town… fire… came… fast… fire… help…"

"There's a town on fire?!" Kenshin tensed suddenly and sharply as he heard the dreadful news. "Where is it? What caused it?"

"There!" yelled the man, pointing a shivering finger behind him. Kenshin stood to his full height and peered over the horizon, faintly making out a thin pillar of black smoke puffing out of the distance.

"I see it!" he exclaimed. "Jack, will you come with me and help? I can't just stand here and let people get hurt!"

"I understand; I will help you." Jack knelt down and picked the exhausted man up off the ground, and turned around to follow Kenshin as the younger man sprinted for the burning town. Jack hated to be lagging behind, but there was still a person in need, and until they recovered, he had to help them along at a slow pace.

"No, go ahead without me," sighed the wear man after a few steps. "I'll be okay. I just need to rest. You and the other one go ahead and see if you can help us. We would be forever in your debt if you could!"

"Are you sure?" asked an uncertain samurai. The weary man nodded his head.

"Yeah. I'll be okay." Jack pursed his lips, and reluctantly left the man behind as he sprinted after his new friend. The two samurai might have been in the middle of evading three deadly assassins, but that didn't mean that they couldn't help other people out.

The town drew closer and the smoke became larger as the two samurai ran nearer and nearer to the cause of distress. Kenshin tried to keep calm as he leaped over the hills and the rocky surfaces, but he couldn't help but think of how many people were suffering already. It took him back to a cruel part of his life, in which he had been the one to cause the fires, and to slaughter those who tried to escape, and to lay waste to whole villages…

The life of Battousai was cruel, but Kenshin the wanderer willingly sought redemption for his acts by replacing what was destroyed and saving what was in grief. Helping a town quench the deadly flames would almost seem as if he had never started any at all, or at least not one, and though no deed could ever wipe clean the slate of his past, a life spent healing injuries was better than a life spent doing nothing.

Samurai Jack, not far away from Kenshin's trail, had no reason to seek redemption or fight to make yp for past sins. His was the path that had always been straight and true, never at war except against the truest evil to ever live, and freed from the hollow feeling of murder that Kenshin sometimes felt. No, Jack fought because it was the right thing to do, because no person should experience grief, and that any help given would be received well--and perhaps another step towards his ultimate goal would be made.

So they both ran for the town, which was not entirely ablaze. When they came within the outskirts of the village, they noticed that one very large building was the source of the blaze, and half of the problem was all the chaos going on around it. People screamed and ran around mindlessly, makeshift firefighting teams were throwing buckets of water onto an immense blaze, and shrieks from inside the building told horrible stories of people still trapped inside.

"This is bad," muttered Kenshin to himself as he arrived. In all the confusion, nobody heard or even noticed him; they were all lost in the anarchy. Jack arrived a few minutes later, gasping for breath and asking what was happening. He got his answer when he heard the scream of a child come from the building.

"There are still people trapped inside!" he shouted. Acting quickly, the samurai ran as fast as he could to the nearest well, and hoisted up a bucket of water. He quickly doused himself and bravely dove into the blaze. Kenshin caught onto what Jack was doing, and splashed himself down before following. Inside the house, the breath of Hell greeted the two samurai as the doorway burped out more flames and smoke to bar their way.

Shielding their faces with their arms, the two samurai quickly studied as much of the house as possible. Practically everything was on fire, from the stairway that led to the upper levels to the rafters and beams that kept the house up. Burning planks of wood fell like meteors, smashing into the ground and narrowly missing the samurai. Sparks and cinders poured down on their dripping clothes like droplets of rain, burning tiny holes into their cloth. Smoke fogged their eyes and their lungs, the flames burned their bodies, and the only thing that kept them in there was the scream they had heard earlier.

"Up there!" shouted Kenshin, looking into the highest levels. He spotted two children on the very top floor, holding close together and wailing. Jack saw them, and also spotted a middle-aged man who had been trapped under a piece of wood. An elderly woman was paralyzed somewhere on the stairs, several older children were desperately trying to find the exit, and one lone dog barked for his freedom.

"We'd better split up," suggested Jack. Kenshin agreed, and darted straight for the kids while Jack jumped up the building to find the children. Bounding up in a quick zigzag fashion, the white-robed samurai easily jumped in front of the children, startling them briefly.

"Do not worry, it is safe now," he told them, slowly reaching out for them. Sniffling and crying, the children reluctantly approached the stranger.

"Who're you?"

"I am here to take you to a safe place," replied Jack. The kids smiled softly, and grabbed hold of the samurai as he hugged them close. Jack nimbly leaped down the building in the same way he came up, narrowly ducking past a falling rafter. He gently shoved the children out the door, and went in search for others. Meanwhile, Kenshin was prying the heavy lumber that had fallen on the middle-aged man's leg, freeing him with a great push.

"Can you walk?" he asked softly. The man could barely move without groaning.

"Urgh… no… I think my leg's busted. But thank the heavens you two came along! Are the children all right?" Kenshin had seen Jack's act of heroism, and gave the man a warm smile.

"Yes, they are, now please come with me." The man gingerly supported himself on Kenshin's shoulder, and held on tight as he was dashed down to the main level and out the door. A crowd had gathered outside ever since the two daringly dashed in, and gave Kenshin a cheer as he presented them with another villager.

"Ah, Rendo! You're okay!" they shouted as the wounded man joined them. The men gave Kenshin faces of vulnerable desperation, asking, "How many more are in there?"

"An elderly woman, three children, and a dog," he told them. A few of the women cried out as they realized that the missing people were their children, and beseeched Kenshin to hurry up. Not wasting a moment, he rushed back in and searched for the remnants. Jack had kept himself occupied during that time; after diving back into Hell, the ceiling began to cave in severely, and large chunks of debris fell in his path. He quickly rolled away from the biggest pieces and let the little bits fall as they may; his goal was the children on the ground floor.

A great wall of flame surrounded three pre-teenage kids, all of them huddled together. Jack saw their horrified faces, begging for help, but as soon as he took a step towards the ring, it exploded even brighter and rose higher into the house, becoming hotter and more impossible to blast through. Jack shielded himself from the belch of fire, the screams of the children horrifying him. Thinking quickly, he looked through his surroundings and noticed that pieces of the ceiling were still caving in. He then got an idea.

"Stay there!" he told them, then he ran off and looked up directly at the ceiling of the house, which was almost completely gone. He spotted the fires licking away at a rather large board, and waited with anxious patience for it to fall. Precious seconds mercilessly drained away (like so much dust coming down from above) as he waited, but his patience was rewarded with a proud crack. A huge portion of the ceiling came crashing down, and this was where Jack drew his sword and split the object in two.

Quickly, he carried both halves of the destroyed ceiling with him, running back towards the desperate children. With a mighty toss, he slammed the pieces of the ceiling onto the flames, flattening them and creating a brief passage for the kids.

"Now!" he shouted, and not one of the three wasted a second. As he ushered them through the brief hole in the flames, he could see Kenshin running back in for the elderly woman and the dog, and gave his fellow wanderer a wave of victory. Kenshin mirrored it with a smile, scrambling out of the way of falling wood as he made his way for the stairs. An old woman, sweet and kind but very scared, was trapped on a small plateau that was normally connected by two stairways, but now both paths had burned away. Kenshin pursed his lips for a second before calling out to her.

"Stay calm! I'm coming up!" The wanderer lifted himself up and vaulted onto her level, landing in front of her with a thump.

"Ooh! Oh my! That was quite a jump!" Kenshin gave her a chuckle, and suddenly squealed out as a falling flame touched his hair. He frantically screamed and tried to slap the fires away, but only succeeded in embarrassing himself and entertaining the woman. "Gracious," she sang, "you're quite energetic, eh?"

"I really don't think this is the time for polite conversation, that I don't!" he yelled frantically. The samurai in red briefly ignored the fire in his hair and scooped the old woman up in his arms. Carefully, he jumped back down to the surface, but came to an impossibly sharp halt as a large piece of timber crashed down right in front of him. Kenshin was absolutely petrified as he barely escaped being smashed and burned, but the old lady wasn't so shaken.

"Well, what are you standing around for? The blasted thing missed you by a mile! Go on, the door's right over there!" Kenshin let out a comical laugh, rubbed his smoking head, and wondered at the bravery of the old woman. He speedily ran through the house and set her down on the floor, amidst cheers of the townspeople.

"Oh no, Koroku's still in there!" shouted a young girl, pointing at the house. Both Kenshin and Jack looked back at the inferno, and could barely hear the sound of a pup yipping. The poor girl wailed uncontrollably, "Koroku, Koroku, nooo! My puppy!!" The villagers tried to calm the grieving girl as Kenshin and Jack looked at each other. They were tired, weary, hot, smoking, and they were finding it difficult to breathe. There was only a dog in there, inside the raging storm of fire and flames, a simple little dog lost somewhere in Hell.

So, of course they went back in for it.

"Where is it?" blurted Jack as he and Kenshin slipped inside the house. "It was right here a few seconds ago! It could not have gone far!" Kenshin hastily scanned the area for any signs of the dog, and spotted something wiggling on the second floor.

"Look! Up there!" Jack looked and saw the dog whimpering in fright, and both he and Kenshin dove towards it. An eruption of flame surrounded them, and with a great explosion, the entire house became washed with fire, and smoke, and the devilry of Hades…

----------

The anticipation outside was only matched by the dread. Everyone gathered in front of the burning house was stunned, and could only watch with frail hope as they waited for the two unknown heroes to emerge… or to be consumed by the flames. The children, the kids, the middle-aged man, and the feisty elderly woman carefully observed the house, especially the door, in which they knew, they _knew_ that their saviors would emerge from. They had to. Any person noble enough to face flames for a girl's puppy _had_ to come out alive…

The girl in particular watched closest, her hope the frailest out of all of theirs. She had been stuck in that building as well, but was whisked away by a brave and handsome samurai warrior, just like in the stories. She never believed that they would fail, although she was stricken with sadness because some small shred of doubt remained. Slowly, she could make out the image of two men appear in the doorway in the house, and with a gasp, she recognized them.

Samurai Jack emerged first, his gi blackened and burned, and every square inch of his skin as smoggy as soot. He wearily stood over a younger man, crouching down with something wrapped in his arms. The girl laughed for joy as she saw her puppy being cradled in Kenshin's arms, safe and sound and excited to see her again. She ran towards her dog with a shout, crying and laughing at the same time until she gave her dog, and Kenshin, a hug.

"You got my doggy! You got my doggy! Yaaaaaay!" Kenshin laughed with her, his face hopelessly covered with soot and smoke, and the entire town surrounded them in celebration. The younger samurai eventually stood up, giving the dog to the girl so she could squeeze him instead, and gave Jack a warm smile.

It was a pretty good way to end the afternoon.


	6. The Devil Assassin

Kenshin let out a happy sigh as he left the bathhouse, his hands still scrubbing his free-flowing red hair with a towel. It had taken him and Jack a few hours to clean up from their earlier rescue mission, and since they were now both heroes, they were treated to the bathhouse for free, and served as if they were celebrities. By the time they had eaten, washed, and had their clothes cleaned up from the smoke and fire, it was closing in on evening, so they were invited to stay for the night.

Kenshin joined Jack, who had stepped out of the house earlier. They both shared a smile and walked off together to the inn, where they would be staying for the night (at no charge, of course). As they walked through the town, which was slowly fading into the dusky-blue blanket of the night, they were greeted with enthusiastic waves and calls from grateful villagers. Even the animals seemed happy to see them, but they all had good reason to. Since the architects and the founders of the town thought it would be sensible for the bathhouse to be close to the inn, the two samurai did not need to walk far.

The innkeeper smiled broadly and extended his arms in welcome as the two of them stepped up to his counter. He signed them in personally and picked two pretty, giggling young ladies to escort the samurai up to their room. Jack and Kenshin greeted them politely, which resulted in more giggling. The two ladies nearly lost their jobs because of the "distraction", but hurried the two up to their quarters before their boss could be angered. They left the duo reluctantly, and only after making _SURE_ that there was nothing they needed.

Since Jack and Kenshin had been through a tough day, they drifted off to sleep rather easily, and dreamed of the times when their lives were peaceful, well before the eras of violence and disorder.

6: The Devil Assassin--The Great Vanishing Smoke!

Jack and Kenshin woke a little bit after the sun rose, when the world was still wet and misty with dew. The small bit of activity outside, not nearly loud enough to stir them, was mostly from farmers tilling their lands, or fishers going out to the nearest lake, and merchants setting up wares so they could begin their day. The bright rays of the sun poured through the paper windows, waking the samurai from sleep, and the scent of breakfast being cooked below sounded the knell for their rising.

Taking deep breaths and stretching to revitalize themselves from their rest, Jack and Kenshin walked down to the main lobby and found the room barely bustling with any activity at all, save for those few early-rising cooks who loved starting the day with creating a meal. Most of the food was eggs and chicken meat, since there had been a surge of poultry in the past day, and since Jack and Kenshin were still heroes, they were treated until they were full.

Once breakfast was finished, the matter of where to go next came up. The reluctance to leave the town was only overshadowed by the danger of their staying behind anywhere. The three assassins who were after Kenshin were definitely in hot pursuit (or at least two of them were), and if the samurai stayed anywhere for too long, he would be discovered and violence would ensue. Kenshin never wished to inflict such misery on a town that had been so kind to him (regardless of what he did for them), so even though he loved the place, he wanted to leave as soon as he could.

One of Jack's concerns was how to arrive back to his own time period. He successfully defeated Aku in the future and was able to traverse the space-time continuum, but a flaw in the vortex caused him to land in nineteenth century Japan instead of the thirteenth, where he was originally from. He had no problem with sojourning in the "past", but he wanted to return to his own time and complete his duties. For the moment, he was glad to help Kenshin out with his troubles, though he couldn't help but think about his own.

Jack and Kenshin left the inn and emerged into the outside world, which was just beginning to warm from the rising sun. The sky was clear with white clouds dotting the atmosphere like flowers in a field, and the chorus of children, animals, and people of all kinds rose up to produce a pleasant song. The smells of the town (breakfast aside) told both wanderers that the village was alive and good, and that any form of violence held within the town would be a sacrilege.

As they walked through the village on their way out, many people still greeted and thanked the two wanderers for the deeds done the previous day. A few people, mostly elders and women, asked them where they were going at such an hour, noticing that they were leaving. The samurai didn't want any of the good townspeople to become aware of an assassin on the loose for fear of panic, so they simply told them all that it was high time they continued on their journey, and left it at that.

But still, there was a nagging sensation in the back of Jack's mind. He was becoming slightly suspicious about the building that had been on fire, and began to wonder whether their trail was really covered or not. He and Kenshin had both encountered two of the killers in their journey--one meeting was much more peaceful than the other--and so he began to think about the third. Kenshin had revealed little about the third menace, mostly because he himself knew little, so Jack had a few good reasons to stay on his toes.

It wasn't as if he didn't trust the town or the people, he told Kenshin. He did, but there was just a bad feeling welling up inside him, like a person sensing that rain will come when there are only a handful of clouds in the sky. He had learned to be cautious through the years of training and wandering, and oftentimes his senses were right. Kenshin didn't really sense any problems until they were about a few steps from the town limits. The redhead noticed that a short-range sword had been plunged into the wooden fence that separated the town from the outside world, and knelt down to examine it.

Since Jack was better traveled than his companion, he knew the blade did not come from their native country. It was perfectly straight without a single curve, double-edged, and it ended in a triangular point. Its length was equivalent to the distance from Jack's elbow to his wrist (excluding the hilt, which was a bit longer than his fist), and its wielder must have exerted a significant force to plunge it into the thick wood, since the blade was so light.

The two samurai stood up and scanned around the area very carefully, keeping a lookout for anything suspicious. The man that only Kenshin had seen had deliberately revealed himself to the wandering samurai for psychological purposes: he wanted Kenshin to stay on his toes and be wary as he journeyed, which would slowly deteriorate at him and tire him out. This new "calling card" was a good possible indication that the same killer was not very far, taunting Kenshin again by revealing his location.

As Kenshin explained all this to Jack, the older samurai posed the grim suggestion that maybe the killer was somewhere in the town, or around it. Kenshin considered the possibility and told Jack to keep watch outside as he ran back into the town at full speed. Jack's theory was justified, so Kenshin hurried as quickly as he could as he searched for a man wearing black, with a death's head face painted ghastly white, and who enjoyed toying with others.

The town was still as calm, ordinary, and peaceful as always, which was either a very good or a very bad sign. Kenshin looked everywhere but found nothing that was out of the ordinary. Everything was as he left it, still very quiet and a bit sleepy, with nothing dangerous to show. Kenshin figured that no sign of the killer might've been worse than any sign at all, and kept looking with inexhaustible energy. At the edge of town, Jack watched and waited for any signs of suspicion, keeping a quiet vigil next to the blade.

Silence.

As Kenshin rounded a corner and darted down another alleyway, he caught a faint trail of black smoke drifting through the air. He halted and watched the fog carefully, keeping his hand tightly clenched on the hilt of his sword. One of the villains who sought him had the unusual ability to turn into a cloud of smoke and drift in and out of a solid form, so he kept mindful of the wisp like a dog watching a piece of meat.

On the outskirts of the town, Jack turned to look into the village to see if he could find anything new, and noticed that Kenshin was standing out in the middle of nowhere, standing perfectly still as he watched what looked to be a cloud of dark smoke. Jack made a confused face and wondered why his companion was doing something so peculiar, so he kept his eyes open and waited. To the surprise of both samurai, the cloud began to gather its wispy fingers into a single form, and from out of a cloudy puff came one of the three killers who was after Kenshin Himura.

It was the specter-like man in black, Fumus Adhvanit, a being more devilish than human with a frightening grin and a ghastly blaze in his eyes. He dropped down from the sky, landed gracefully, and with a flick of his wrists, he produced two blades that were exactly the same as the one that had been thrust into the fence. He grinned at the surprised samurai, pleased that his grand entrance had startled him so, and rushed in for the kill without saying a word.

The thunder of metal clashing against metal rang out, wakening every villager that had been sleeping until then. The sound was almost a painful one in that village, which knew no war or destruction, nor even the sound of blades smacking together violently. The people watched in awe as one of their heroes fought against the man in black, whipping his reverse-blade sword with a blinding speed to counter the double blades of his attacker.

Kenshin had not been in a fight like that since the Revolution, a mere three years previous. He had survived the bloodshed and came out a wanderer, using his sword to save and defend those suffering in the wake of destruction, but he rarely had to face an enemy whose attack was so blindingly quick and heartlessly cruel. Fumus was more like a spinning tornado than a living being: he spun around quickly, using sheer momentum to move his blades into a spinning position. It was like watching a mad painter construct an art of chaos upon the easel of innocence, with the colors of silver, black, and red flying everywhere.

Just as Fumus had forced Kenshin back far enough, the man in black was suddenly thrust to the side by a violent kick, sending him bouncing in the dirt. Kenshin slowly recovered from the suddenness of the situation and noticed that it had been Jack who saved him. Without exchanging any words, the elder samurai drew his magical blade and held it in front of him, waiting for the fight to resume.

Fumus rose to his feet, groaning as he shook the dust off his body. He had been too distracted with fighting Kenshin to notice Jack, and that was perhaps his only real weakness. The black creature had astounding speed that Kenshin barely matched, and there was ferocity in him that equaled the elements. Adding unto that his ability to transform into smoke, and the samurai had themselves a very worthy and very dangerous enemy. Growling, Fumus flicked his wrists again, producing the blades and running back into battle without hesitation. Jack and Kenshin met his charge with two claps of metallic thunder.

White and red samurais quickly hopped to each side of their attacker, Jack on the left and Kenshin on the right. Fumus spread himself out wide and battled each of them with one of his blades, his attention split between the two for a time. The man in black was very fast and held his own for a while, but he could not keep the concentration up for long. Both Jack and Kenshin fought back hard, no longer taken by surprise by the sudden arrival of their enemy.

Kenshin swung his sword, which Fumus dove down to avoid, but Jack was there to sweep at him with his feet. The man in black flipped over the sweep and emerged a few hops away, facing both of them instead of just one at a time. His nostrils were flaring and his breath came out like a bull's snort; his foes didn't look fatigued at all. Fumus took only a second to recover from his breathlessness and dove back into the fight, grinning wildly.

He swung and chopped like a mad lumberjack, his blades looking like they were going everywhere as he fought with relentless fervor. But there were really only two of them, and two samurai to counter them, so no matter how fast he went or how much he fought, Fumus always had somebody going up against him with full power. Even he could not keep up the fight for long, and decided to end everything with a quick kill.

Yelling out a wordless battle cry, Fumus lunged towards Jack, one blade brandishing madly and the other ramming forth. Jack defended against the first blade as best he could, but was barely able to swing away from the second, which ripped his gi and cut his shoulder a little. However, this left an opening for Kenshin, who dove right in and slashed at Fumus' arm with his reverse blade. The entire appendage split open like ripe earth beneath a powerful plow, spewing out what looked to be tiny black blobs. Kenshin grimaced as the show of disgust erupted, but revolt changed to horror just as quickly.

Freezing temporarily, Fumus waited patiently while the cut in his arm quickly sewed itself up, like jelly merging into a bigger blob of jelly. Soon, the entire cut area was healed, and it was as if there had been no attack at all. Fumus chuckled darkly as he saw the gawking faces of the samurai, and presented himself to them as a whole being. He gloated at them cruelly, boasting about invincibility to the weapons of man, and referenced the very depths of the Pit as his gloomy origins, verifying that this was a man unknown to the living beings on Earth. Laughing, he stood once again and waited for the hopeless charge.

Kenshin stood his ground with rock-hard determination, but Jack held him back and took his place. The pure steel of his magically forged blade shined brilliantly in the morning sun, reflecting light towards the black-clad man with a glimmering shine. Fumus stood still, daring for the foolish samurai to make his futile charge. Jack accepted the challenge and ran towards the villainous creature, and slashed at him with the blade.

To the amazement of the assassin and Kenshin, a great scar formed on Fumus' chest, and did not heal.

Screaming in shock, pain, and astonishment, Fumus demanded to know how the white samurai could injure him so grievously. Jack, standing tall and firm with the blade of his ancestors resting proudly in his hands, declared that his was not a mortal weapon but one made from the divine, its sole purpose to vanquish evil and protect the good. Against a "demon" such as Fumus, who was black with evil, the sword was the most effective bane. The demon, pronounced Jack, had his days numbered.

Fumus snarled and growled at the samurai, but all his anger in the world could not deny the painful scar running down his chest-the one that refused to heal itself. Jack smiled triumphantly and dared for the killer to strike again, but Fumus was not a fool, no matter how fanatically he wanted to kill them both. He hid his blades, bared his teeth at the two, and retreated in a pillar of smoke just as a gale wind picked up, flapping against the trees and the clothes of the two warriors.

Both Jack and Kenshin took a deep breath, and sheathed their swords as victory was given to them once again. A cheer came up from out of nowhere, and it was then that they realized they were still in that small, sleepy town, full of people who had been witnesses to the entire thing. They streamed out to celebrate the victory of their heroes, showering them with screams and hugs and dozens of rewards. Jack and Kenshin couldn't help but laugh as they were lifted up off their feet and carried through the town. For their deeds, they had achieved permanent celebrity status in the small town--another step towards their individual goals.

But they did not rest upon laurels, not even during that moment of revelry, for even though they had determined two definite weaknesses of one of their enemies, it had been just one enemy, who would most certainly return with a cunning vengeance--and there were two others just like him, only with different weaknesses, more difficult to exploit. The day was still young, the trials nowhere near beginning.


	7. BloodRed Battousai

As heroic as their actions were, Jack and Kenshin still preferred being on the move rather than staying in one place for a long time. The villagers grew to understand their desire to leave and continue on their endless journey, so they bade their mysterious heroes an impromptu farewell. The two samurai were allowed to wander again: one searching for good deeds to be done and souls to save, the other for a way home. In a strange sense, the enemies they were facing were just a small bump in the road--hopefully not the last.

"I hope that man has no intention of returning to that town," murmured Jack as he and his companion started down the road. "I have seen the way that the minds of evil work. That man knows that we were in that village, and might do some terrible things to it while we are away."

"You mean like… setting a house on fire?" suggested Kenshin. Jack stopped dead in his tracks, facing forward sternly as Kenshin caught up with him.

"We have no proof that he ever did such a thing," whispered Jack very softly. "I know what you mean, but fires like that happen all the time. I do not think that our enemy, or that enemy in particular, is so clever to know our next destination before we do. Besides, even if he did, there was little point of setting that blaze other than to draw us into the town--and if he ever tries to do something like that again, he shall meet my blade and understand its power."

Jack kept still for a second, letting the wind blow over his kimono and the short braid of hair he kept tied up, and slowly took a few steps forward as he resumed his journey. Kenshin was left to ponder his words, a haunting message addressed to all those cruel enough for it to apply to. He followed his older companion after a while, a great deal of things on his mind-one of them being where the path and the countryside would take them next.

7: Blood-Red Battousai -- A Quiet and Terrible Reflection

When the last town was so far away from the wanderers' vision that it was little more than a dot of blurry light, it was then where their adventures into the wilderness of the country began. Jack immediately began to recognize parts of the landscape as he passed through of it, much of it imprinted into his mind forever. He knew the hilly landscape that they were passing into, where the mountains of green rose up so high that it looked like the trees had blankets over them. After all, he had grown up in that area.

And oh, the trees that he saw were mighty and strong! Retaining their most lush attire with great pride, they stood out as loving sentinels of life to greet the duo when they walked beneath their shady canopies. The dirt path that had been carved into the land had vanished long ago, ending where the hilly part of the country began, where no man settled and where no tool had been used. The virgin ground had never been touched with plow or spade; what few prints were there had been made by animals as they wandered through, and the sandals the samurais wore barely ruffled the long grass beneath.

The land was dry, moist only in the mornings when the dew of dawn clung to grass, so finding streams and rivers was rare. The two wanderers had gathered supplies from the villagers just before they left, in exchange for rescuing the people from the blaze and driving off the assassin, so they were set for a while as they crossed the country in search of their next destination. Ultimately, they knew that they could not run forever, and that their pursuers would find them one way or another eventually--but as long as they stayed away from populated areas where people could be in danger, they were okay.

For three days they passed over the pristine country, discovering that much of the land around them still remained unhindered by modern devices. For Jack, it was more common to look through a land and find little adulteration in nature, but Kenshin had grown up in a Japan that was just beginning to understand its own industrial power, however primitive it was at times. He looked like he was enjoying himself as he walked beside Jack, remaining quiet with a bright, almost childish look on his face.

Three days and most of their provisions had passed before they found any semblance of civilization, and even then, it was a discovery of very earthy proportions. A farmland rested in the valley of a few small hills, its size roughly the same as the village they had left. A wooden fence designated most of its property, which ran just into the emerald foothills. They finally saw a clear lake, which had been annexed to the farm, and since they were tired and hungry, they decided to stop by and rest.

"It would do us both some good to lay down in a cozy setting like this, that it would," said Kenshin with a smile. "Of course, we might have to work for our earnings, but I don't mind at all, that I don't. It would only seem fair to lend a helping hand to such kind people." Jack quietly agreed and led the way, down a gentle hill and through an opening in the fence, where they found the owner of the small farm wiping the sweat off his forehead.

"Hello there!" greeted Kenshin. "Excuse us, but we were wondering if we could find a place to stay and some food to eat! We'll both be glad to work for you in exchange!"

"Ah, what a lucky day!" wailed the farmer wearily, wiping his head again. "I'm so busy with everything that it'll take me a year to finish! I live way out here in the middle of nowhere, and since I don't have a wife or any sons, I thought I'd be all alone forever! Thank Buddha that you arrived! I must be blessed!"

"So it is a lucky day for _all_ of us!" exclaimed Jack. The farmer nodded his head.

"Yeah! It is! So what do you gentlemen want to help me with first? I've got a lot of wood in the back that I never got around to chopping. Do you two know how to chop wood?" Both Jack and Kenshin looked at each other, neither one unable to help the sly glint in their eyes.

"We might… know a thing or two…"

---------------

After amazing the farmer with their wood-chopping skills, Kenshin and Jack were refreshed with as much water as they could handle, then were told to help plow the fields. The two samurai leaped into their duties enthusiastically, running around with boundless energy until even the most difficult task was over. They helped clear bushes and shrubs with their swords, they both helped mend the fences and tools; they assisted the farmer with planting and sowing seeds, and even cared for the animals of the farm, brushing and feeding them and making sure that everything was in good order.

Their first day at the farm was spent in light labor; the second was filled with more strenuous activities. Once, Jack jokingly told his companion that they were more in need of rest then than when they had first arrived; Kenshin replied by saying that he was hungrier and more thirsty while working than just wandering. But of course, they were helping the farmer as samurais should, extending courtesy, kindness, and a servant's disposition, and his gratefulness and the fulfillment they got from it all was reward enough.

On the third day, a chaotic disaster struck as the fence tore down again and a swarm of pigs escaped their confinement. A dozen shrieks and squeals filled the air, distracting the samurais and the farmer from working in the field. The poor farmer yelled as his prize porkers ran out on him.

"Oh no! My pigs! They're running amok everywhere! I'll never be able to catch them all!"

"Leave it to us!" exclaimed Jack as he stepped in front of the farmer. He and Kenshin leaped after the slippery swine, diving down like mad monkeys as they tried to outrun the swine. But those pigs were wily and quick! They dashed and darted everywhere, sneaking away from almost-certain capture with impressive speed. Oftentimes, when it looked like Jack or Kenshin had caught a hog, it would slip out of their grasp at the last second, causing them to stumble and fall to the ground. Jack looked especially terrible when he stood up again, for the stains of mud and grass clung like barnacles to his gi.

Kenshin plummeted to the ground and extended his arms to squeeze the pig's rear legs, getting himself a filthy but satisfying victory. He quickly took the pig back to the fence, which the farmer was desperately trying to repair. As Kenshin tried to keep the pig inside, another squealed past him, bowling him over as it ran straight into the pen. Kenshin was left flat on the ground, groaning comically as he ate the pig's dust.

"Well I'll be!" exclaimed the farmer. "That one must've been really eager to get back into the pen!" He laughed, and Kenshin tried to mirror his smile as he stood back up. Still teetering a bit from the pig's sudden attack, Kenshin went back into the fray. He passed Jack, who was proudly holding two pigs up in the air by their legs.

"I have two!" he boasted. Kenshin smiled and pointed to the pen.

"Great! So do I… sort of."

"Shall we make a contest out of this?" said Jack. Kenshin gave his friend an eager smirk, and agreed.

"Yes, let's just see who gets the most pigs inside…" Quickly, Kenshin darted ahead into the field while Jack raced back to the pen. As carefully as he could, he tossed the porkers into the fence and ran back out to rescue the remaining swine. The farmer stayed behind, laughing hard as he watched the two samurai scramble after the hogs, oftentimes causing themselves painful but hilarious disaster.

Finally, both warriors guided the last of the pigs in the pen, weary and exhausted but feeling great for their accomplishment. The farmer counted heads and came up with the correct amount, and congratulated his workers for a job very well done. And then, after giving them praise, he offered them a bath. Jack and Kenshin had gotten incredibly filthy out there, tripping over the ground and into the muddy grass.

"Thank you for your kindness," said a brown-faced Jack, bowing his head. "We could not think of a better reward for saving your pigs than a well-deserved hot bath." Kenshin, always needing to add something funny, spoke up as well.

"I know I'll certainly never look at ham the same way, that I won't!" One of the pigs oinked angrily at his bad joke, and with a chuckle, the farmer led them both to the lake where he washed.

----------

Though they knew that they could not stay on the small farm forever, it had been a wonderful place to rest and recollect thoughts that had been scattered from so much wandering. It had been ages since either man labored hard and long on such an earthy ground--it was actually pretty relaxing, once they both got used to it. But they knew they could not stay for much longer, and so they both agreed that they would leave once they formulated a plan--or their pursuers flushed them out.

One day, as they were tilling the soil and thinking of a way out of their predicament, they saw the farmer walking towards them with a smile on his face, leading a tall man that both warriors instantly recognized. The man dwarfed all three of the workers, standing at least two meters tall above the ground, and a few of the muscles in his body were as large as Kenshin's head. He had an even colder, stonier look on his face than before, and the hairy flames set upon his head and face danced even brighter and hotter than before. He had not changed--but Jack and Kenshin were not concerned about change.

For a moment, they feared that they had finally been discovered, and that their trail was not as cold as they thought it had been.

"Hello, young workers!" exclaimed the farmer cheerfully. His smile was oblivious to the tension shared between Jack and Kenshin, and the look of flaming ice that the taller man was giving them both. He continued, just as naïve as before. "This gentleman was in the area and wondered if he could perform some labor for some food. I already told him I had two men working for me already, but seeing as how strong he looked, the two of you may have some competition!" He laughed gently and looked up into the blazing, lifeless eyes of the semi-gigantic man.

"Now what was your name again, sir?" he asked. The tall redhead grumbled.

"Just… Rygar. If you don't mind, I'd like to speak with these two in private."

"Huh? What for?"

"It's just a request," answered the taller man. The farmer shrugged, and wandered away to give the three of them privacy. The hands of the two smaller warriors reached for their swords, but the third raised his hand and stopped them.

"Don't," he said. "I'm not here to fight. I'm here to talk, just as I said. If you're wondering, I didn't follow you here--I've been avoiding you, as a matter of fact--but now that we're all here together, I might as well speak with you."

"About what?" asked Kenshin warily. Rygar grunted softly as he sat down on a tree stump that had yet to be uprooted.

"Myself, you could say. You know, Kenshin Himura, when you really think about it, you could consider myself an older, stronger, less sociable version of you."

"How do you mean?" he asked. Slowly, the two men sat down on the ground, and listened as their powerful nemesis revealed several unbelievable pieces of personal information-apparently, because he just wanted to.

"Many miles west of here lies a series of islands which is my birthplace. You might know them as the British Isles; as you can see, my appearance differs greatly than yours. The other man, Melville Drakemoth, comes from the same area, more or less, though we don't know each other very well. When I was a few years younger, probably around my late twenties, I was considered the Battousai of my own country: its most infamous slayer of men.

"But that is perhaps our only real similarity," he continued, his bass voice becoming quiet. "Whereas you fought for a righteous cause and later vowed to be a messenger of peace and safety, I was the type who enjoyed my work, and did much of it for pleasure. Yes, that's right: I was myself without morals. When I was at the peak of my bloody infamy, I was known as Rygar the Red, and still am to this day.

"Red is the color of my hair, a symbol of my upcoming presence. Red is the color of fire, which I have used to incinerate everything I have come across. Red is the color of blood, which I have used to wash the land clean in floods of crimson. The entirety of the land was aflame with the color of bloody red, all from my hands, all caused by me whether in pleasure or in payment, and I enjoyed it all.

"I was the most feared and terrified creation in the whole country, until one day, when everything changed."

"What… changed for you?" managed Jack, somewhat unable to speak because of the story he had heard. Rygar sighed, and stared down at the ground, reminiscing on his deepest act of depravity.

"I killed a young girl," he replied in monotone. "As Rygar the Red, I had slain hundreds of children before without a single though. I even killed mothers who were ready to give birth to children. But this…… she was different. As I plowed through that burning, screaming village, taking people's lives faster than the Reaper himself could count, I came across a whimpering little girl, huddled in between some barrels. She was a defenseless, frightened little child, but my aim was to kill anything that got in my way or was witness to my actions. But before I could strike, I saw something that… terrified me.

"As I raised my sword, the young girl looked at me, hopeless and defenseless, her dull green eyes begging for me not to kill her. This child had lived through all of the Hell that I unleashed upon the town, and was so frightened and sad that all she could do was hide and hope to remain unnoticed. But in my cruelty, I uncovered her and prepared to strike, destroying her flimsy hopes before I destroyed her. That look she gave me, that silent, frightening gaze, sent terrifying shivers down my spine, something that would haunt me forever. I ended up taking her head."

Jack and Kenshin, too petrified to even gawk, could say nothing.

"I began to realize that I had turned into the great Golem of legend, a soulless, powerful creature who grew so tall and mighty that they were obstructed by the truth of things. I left that town and the country as quickly as I could, but not before being witness to all the repercussions of my violent ways. Absolutely everything that had once been in my path was now ashes and dust. Pain and misery were the only survivors, and no good came from my devilish acts, unlike the purity of your purpose, Himura."

Kenshin said nothing.

"I decided to leave my home country forever, and went on a journey of retribution, where I hoped to find inner peace to quell the demons living within. Yet I could find no town to stay in where the name of Rygar the Red was not feared, and no sailor was brave enough to ferry me across the rivers and oceans. I was forced to live as a hermit for a few years, until I finally came across the one man who gave me a second chance, my beloved master." Rygar paused, and Jack noticed that the stoic man actually looked like he was smiling fondly.

"Who would that be?" he asked. Rygar sighed.

"Master Atman, the only person I've met who was stronger than I was."

"What?!" hissed Kenshin sharply, taken by surprise violently. "You mean to say that _you_ were one of the students of the great Master Atman??" Rygar nodded his head.

"I was. And I'm not surprised you know of him. His name is even more recognized than my own, but of course, it's for his benevolence, whereas mine is the epitome of Hellish horror." Kenshin did not respond; he just kept his mouth and eyes wide open in surprise. Poor Jack was confused by that point, since he had never heard of this Atman person during any of his journeys. Of course, he couldn't have while in his own time, and Aku could've erased all records of the man in the future.

"Excuse me for asking such an unusual question, but who is this Master Atman?" he said. Rygar raised his eyebrow, perhaps in bewilderment.

"Ah, so there _is_ a man out there who doesn't know of Master Atman. Himura, would you do the honors in my stead?" Kenshin nodded his head and turned towards his older companion, a very serious look on his face.

"I have learned to fight under a great teacher, and I have been through many worthy opponents in my life, but the one known as Master Atman is reputed to be the world's greatest authority on self-defense. Some say that when he was barely a young man, he helped lead a revolution against three separate empires; others say that his innate skill is so great, that he actually becomes stronger each time he fights.

"Unlike many teachers I know of, Master Atman is a warrior of knowledge and defense, preferring to fight without ever raising a hand. But if he were spurned so, the offender would be thrust into regret. I have heard stories of Atman knocking out large bears with just his fist, or breaking boulders into dust with a single strike. That man is a peaceful teacher, of whom only the strongest of students could keep up with. If you," he indicated to Rygar, "learned from him, then I can only imagine your power."

"My master said that power was worthless," stated Rygar firmly. "And it is. I learned the great lesson that any fool could kill and destroy; it took no strength to create evil. The greatest strength, he said, was resisting the evil and dedicating oneself to the opposite of villainy and devastation--as you are doing presently, Himura."

Again, Kenshin said nothing.

"He sounds like a man of which any number of things could be learned that would have little to do with violence," noted Jack. "Was he of the Shao-Lin order?"

"It's possible," shrugged the older man. "My old master died a few years back, so in his memory, I have decided to wander the world again and do everything in my power to rectify what I have done wrong."

"But what good could come out of what you are doing now?" demanded Jack. "You say that you want to do good and strive to change your ways, but how does hunting after Kenshin and myself fit in with any of this? You are being just as destructive and cruel as ever!"

"You have done nothing to earn my wrath," replied Rygar calmly. "But the former Battousai is another story. Although I understand that what he did during the Meiji Revolution was perhaps a pure motive, there are still many people out there who despise him. I am not one of them; I am just arbitrating for them in battle. I can justify this battle because, perhaps, if these people see that their scourge is defeated, they may take solace in vengeance. I for one don't approve of revenge, but if it will settle their anger…"

"But you are still doing the wrong thing," stated Kenshin firmly. "Killing, no matter what the reason, is an inhumane act and should not be used as a means of satisfying other people. What I did, I did as a slayer of men; I am now just a simple wanderer, that I am, who is trying to make up for my years of murder by helping and saving others. I know I can never atone for my sins, but if I can prevent even one life from snuffing out…"

"We really are very similar, Himura," grumbled Rygar. The taller, older man stood up again, stretching his back and loosening his neck, apparently finished with talking. "You and I both were man-slayers, though in different eras and different parts of the world. We were once hated and feared, but through the flames of our ordeals, we passed through into stronger people. I am glad that you are no longer a killer, Himura. The world has enough of them as it is."

Rygar gave Kenshin a faint smile, and saluted Jack numbly. Before he left them by themselves, he reached back behind him and slowly drew out the greatsword sheathed onto his back. The object was about half as long as Rygar was, and from the way the ground trembled as he thrust it into the soil, it was incredibly heavy.

"It takes five strong men just to lift that sword up off the ground," stated Rygar. "I can wield it with just one hand. Go ahead, try and move it." Kenshin and Jack were apprehensive at first, since they didn't quite see the point of the exercise. Carefully, they approached the blade and pulled on it with all their might. Even with both of them lifting, the sword did not move a single inch.

Suddenly, as they were trying to lift it, the sword rose into the air, though not through their actions. Rygar had pulled it out as if it were a wooden stick, with the two samurai still clinging to the hilt! They quickly jumped off, and stared in awe as Rygar waved his massive weapon around in just one hand. It returned to its sheath easily, the weight of the heavy weapon not affecting its user in the least.

"I'd rather not cross you again if I can help it," he said to them. "To be perfectly honest, I loathe my position. I'd rather not even be in this country at all, no offense. But… I am still weak. I can attest my own dark past and its dark desires to my presence here; there's no other excuse. I hope I never see either one of you again, for if I do, we will have to be enemies. Farewell and goodbye, and try to watch out for the others. I think one of them has been following you."

With that, the old warrior walked away into the distance, opposite of where Kenshin and Jack were going to head. The two warriors watched him until they could no longer see him, and when they were convinced that he was gone, they turned towards the farmer's house and headed straight for it.

The time for wandering had passed. It was time to take action, or else be reduced to drifters forever. Jack concentrated on what he and his companion would do next, but Kenshin was absorbed with the words that Rygar had left him, and the two demonstrations he gave them, which foreshadowed just the kind of fight they could expect if they ever ran into him again.

And despite every precaution they would take in the future, both warriors knew that a third confrontation was inevitable.


	8. Damsel in Distress

Their pace was quickened since the departure of Rygar; Kenshin and Jack wanted to find their pursuers and end the hunt before it became any more unbearable. The possibility of one of the assassins being out of the game was good news, but that left two others to worry about: one a demonic creature, perhaps literally, and the other a very calculating man deeply educated in many fields, the matter of death being one of the highest. The unadulterated blood of a warrior ran in the third killer's veins; Jack and Kenshin were awfully fortunate that he decided to restrain from fighting them.

So, leaving the farm where they had worked for some time, the two samurai set out on a new journey, leaving the mountains behind them and slowly, gradually coming into a small community. The nearest house, nothing more than a mere three-room shack, really, was about an hour away.

8: Damsel in Distress: The Two Samurai Come to the Rescue!

From time to time, both men (who had grown up in wary times) glanced behind them to make sure they weren't being followed. Perhaps they acted a little too paranoid, but they had good reason to since they had been surprised many times by their pursuers. Thankfully, they only saw the mountains and the valley they had left behind; upon either side of them was a wide open meadow, filled with golden wheat and some daffodils, many kinds of purple flowers, and a few leaping rabbits. Even a few deer had wandered into the area, looking for good feed.

It was a good place for a sensitive killer to sneak up on them, but there was also a small community in the distance, a few tiny houses loosely built together by people who were either too poor or too proud to live elsewhere. One of the houses was coming up on them as they walked towards it; its design was wood and mud, with a straw roof covered in small stones to prevent it from blowing away. Neither samurai would've paid it mind, except for what they became witness to shortly upon arriving.

"AHHHH!!!" They heard a scream. They became alert, and hurried to the source. Dust kicked up as they skidded to a halt and peered around the small house for the cause of trouble, and suddenly, a rock came flying through the air. Two more came crashing through the window, and another smacked into the weak body of the house, giving it a bruise. The scream pierced through the air again, and the plot thickened.

"Ahh! Stop it at once! Please, sirs, I told you I didn't have any money!"

"We don't care! Pay up _now_, or else! If you can't pay us with money, than maybe you've got something else that's valuable to us! How bout' that dress?"

"No, stop, take your hands off me! That was a gift from my mother before she died! It's the only piece of clothing I have! I've sold everything else to pay you people, and now I have nothing left!"

"Your only piece of clothing, eh?" The samurai became angered as they heard some crude laughter, and before the poor woman could be stripped, they rushed right into the house and stood at the doorway, making their presence known.

"Remove yourself from that woman, now!"

"I would take my friend's advice if I were you, that I would." The sound of blades being drawn caught the attention of three large men in the house, and one poverty-stricken, beautiful young woman. Not needing to know the extensive details (Jack and Kenshin could tell what was going on just by eavesdropping and looking), the two samurai stood in the doorway, their faces washed with dark fire, waiting for the men to back away.

"What's this?" growled the one on the left. "Are they friends of hers?"

"They both have swords!" exclaimed the one on the right, sounding worried. "We only came with rocks and our fists!"

"Patience, gentlemen!" shouted the one in the center. "Let's not do anything too hasty. Now, my friends," (he said smoothly as he addressed the samurai), "what business do you have here in this woman's house?"

"We overheard your words just a few seconds ago," said Jack, his voice angered. "We came to prevent you and your men from doing any harm to this woman. Now leave this place, and never come back!"

"Hey! Buddy! We got a debt to collect!" said the one on the left. Jack suddenly snapped his sword out, swinging it so fast and with such fury that nobody even saw the blade. A ringing sound came out, and slowly, the buttons on one of the men's shirts became undone. The man wearing the shirt paled.

"Leave this place," hissed Jack, his voice even darker and more threatening, "and never come back." The man that Jack had swung at stuttered for awhile, then ran off screaming as soon as his senses returned. Another followed his example and fled, but the apparent leader of the group stayed behind to issue an oath of vengeance.

"This is only temporary!" he snarled, jamming his finger into Jack's shoulder. "We'll be back soon, and with more men and weapons, too! We always get our debts collected no matter what, and no two wanderin' weirdos with swords ain't gonna turn us around." He growled one last time, and lumbered away in temporary defeat. As they watched the men flee, Jack and Kenshin sheathed their swords again, and turned around towards the very relieved, very grateful woman. She collapsed on them and gave them a desperate hug.

"Oh, thank you, kind sirs! Thank you so much! I thought something terrible was going to happen to me! Thank you, thank you from saving me from those awful men! Thank you, really!"

"It's… no… problem," squeaked Kenshin, who was slowly beginning to suffocate under her embrace. Jack, suffering less than his redheaded companion, asked the poor woman what all the trouble had been about. She stared up at him with dark, piercing, desperate eyes, laden with tears and terror.

"It's an awful story," she said, her voice thick and haggard, like a big plow being dragged through mud. "It started with the Meiji Revolution, of all things. My husband fought in that war and died heroically for his country, but that left me a widow. I never had children, and all my family was killed during the war, so I had nobody to take care of me. Being a widow these days is nearly impossible work, but I managed. I found this village and managed to scrape up whatever I could just to get this house, and I've been living here ever since.

"Once every few months, though, a collection agency comes and takes whatever I've earned in exchange for my stay here. I found a bit of work as a seamstress, but I was forced to sell everything I had just to make the first few payments. I ended up nearly starving to death, with only this dress and this house as my own. Now I don't have any money left, and those men will come back any day now to get what's theirs!"

The woman's story stirred the samurai's noble hearts, and they felt sympathy for her. She was about their age, young and beautiful despite the lack of care. Her dark hair was a mess, her face was dirty, and the tattered cloth of a dress she had on told them both that yes, it really was her last remaining item--but she was still very pretty. She soon began to weep as she finished her story, mostly burying herself in Kenshin's arms. He held her close, that former slayer of men, and let her weep.

During his past life, he had surely been responsible for making many other widows like that women, for he had slain men by the bushel. Slowly, he began to understand the words of Rygar, the warrior they had met not too long ago, and came to reason why the infamous man was hunting him. It was to avenge people like that woman there, who had been hurt deeply by the bloody civil war.

"…There are no words that I can say that will ease your troubles, ma'am, that there aren't," he spoke softly. "But I do feel sympathy for you. If you don't mind, my friend and I would like to help in any way we could." The woman sniffled and stopped crying, and looked up into his youthful face. Her smile was glowing with love and thanks, and she looked more beautiful in her simple poverty than many wealthy women ever could.

"You're very kind," she whispered. "Thank you. But unless you can come up with some money, then I'm doomed. Those men will come back, just as they said, and there'll be more with them! I… I don't want to see any bloodshed, and I don't want any trouble. I just…"

"You have nothing to fear," said Jack firmly, placing his hand on her shoulder. "In my life, I have encountered many like you who seem to have no hope, and I have helped them all to the best of my abilities. We will both find a way for you to live the rest of your life as a happy woman, without worry of debt."

"That would be too good to be true," she sighed dreamily. Jack gave her a smile.

"I am sure that there is a way to make it a reality. In fact, I may have a plan." Kenshin looked over and gave his fellow warrior a knowing smile.

"If it's anything what I'm thinking of, it will definitely work. All we really have to worry about are those men, but I'm sure they can be handled peacefully, that they can." The woman smiled in rapture, and gave them both another thankful hug. She didn't know what they had planned, but at that point, it didn't matter. She was desperate enough to try anything, but those two seemed more like saviors to her than simply travelers. Whatever they had planned, it would probably be better than what she expected.

_______________

Trusting Jack to his plan, Kenshin Himura waited by himself in the shack. The white-robed samurai had left the other day, taking the poor woman with him. His plan, simple as it was, was to take the woman to the farmer's house, the one they had just left, and keep her there, possibly for good. Knowing the farmer reasonably well, Jack felt like the woman would be welcomed and perhaps, since they were about the same age, even loved. It would be good for her to have somebody watching over her; that simply left Kenshin with the messy duty of the debtors. He didn't expect them to be delayed long, for greed made men work very fast.

A knock on the door woke him from his sleep. Kenshin stayed at that shack for the night, mostly leaning against the wall since the woman had no bed (she really had sold everything). The knock stirred him awake, and since he expected the debt collectors to be on the other side, he got up and walked over to the door warily. He wasn't sure when they'd come back, so he had stayed behind to wait, and now his patience was being "rewarded".

"Yes, how may I help you?" he asked, trying to sound innocent though his tone was flat. He noticed there were seven men instead of just three, and most of them were armed. Kenshin also came to the door with a weapon, though he didn't expect to actually use it, since these were just men and not warriors.

"Hey, where'd that pretty woman get to?" demanded one of the seven. "She run off?"

"Yes, the owner of this house is away right now," answered Kenshin, his words filled with a trace of significance.

"Owner? Buddy, _we_ own this run-down shack! That woman's just paying us to stay here! She sure did pay us a lot too, huh?"

"Yeah, and if these two men didn't come by and stop us, she would've paid us a _lot_ more, if you know what I mean!" Most of the men laughed; Lenshin tried not to show too much of his anger. He knew that if he and Jack had not come to the woman's aide, she would have been physically disgraced and traumatized.

"Hey, ain't he one of those guys that stopped us?" pointed another of the seven. Two of the men that Kenshin recognized in the crowd saw him and agreed.

"Yeah… hey, yeah! That's him, all right! Hey, mister hero! Where's your friend?"

"He is very far away, with the woman in question--and I recommend that you all head off in a similar direction, and never return to this place. It should shame you to take advantage of war widows like that, it should indeed. I personally find it disgraceful that you've continued to bother that woman even when you knew she had no way to pay for this house. Men should have more sympathy, especially for people affected by the war."

"Ah, bull!" they snorted. "We were just charging her to stay here, that's all! Who cares if one lousy wench couldn't pay for a few years' of debt?! We had every right to collect from her--and if we can't collect from her, then we'll get our money elsewhere!"

"This house no longer has an occupant, so you may take it if it will satisfy you," replied Kenshin, hoping to escape the conflict with a peaceful negotiation. From the looks of the weapons in the hands of the seven, though, peace would probably not be possible.

"We don't care about the stinking house!" they barked. "We can tear it down and burn it to the ground for all we care! We just came to get our payment from that no-good wench, but if she's not around, then maybe we can take it from you instead!!" The man laughed and ran towards Kenshin with his blade clumsily flying in the air; the former Battousai calmly stepped aside and tripped the man with his outstretched foot. A cough of dust rose out of the floor as the hotheaded man kissed the ground.

"Hey! What just happened?"

"I think that guy just got embarrassed!"

"Hey, we won't let that happen to us, right?" Two more men ran after Kenshin, but they too fell and smooched up dust from the floor. The remaining four, who had watched it all with astonished eyes, did not follow the mindless examples of their peers.

"Whuh… hey, they got beat, too! This guy's serious!"

"Is it really worth all this trouble just to collect a few measly coins?" asked Kenshin theoretically. "Do you really want to pursue violence and greed at the expense of others? Do you really dwell on making poor people miserable, while lining your own pockets with silver as other people starve? This war has caused all of us a great deal of trouble; we should not burden others with even more trouble, as if the war still continues. I suggest that you all go away from this place and find a more honest line of work--and take your friends, too."

Kenshin hoped that his strong words would work and the remaining four would have some sense left to obey him. Three of the men immediately agreed with him, preferring _not_ to be humiliated, and bent down to pick up their dazed comrades. The other one stayed behind, giving Kenshin a wide stare. His companions left him behind with the red-robed samurai, where Kenshin asked him what he had planned.

"…Actually," he said, "would it be okay if I lived in this house?"

_______________

Jack smiled warmly as the woman gave him a final embrace, and a kiss was added to his cheek, just because he had been so kind. He politely declined the woman's request that a kiss be given to Kenshin (he just felt a little awkward doing it himself), and left her and the farmer with a wave. He knew that the kindly man would take better care of her, and so with another quest completed, he turned around and headed for the shack where he had left his friend.

No matter what the era, people could always count on Samurai Jack to help them.


	9. Ring of Fire

The journey wasn't complete without the two samurai having to perform good deeds. Whether it was saving people from a fire, helping a farmer with his land, or rescuing a beautiful poverty-stricken woman from cruel debtors, the life of a wanderer was always filled with one quest or another. Yes, adventure and danger went hand in hand together--one could not have one without the other--so one had to be careful and wary of such things before they went out onto the road. Things rarely went as romantic as the stories said they did, though there were times when a nameless traveler could be a hero.

And of course, there were those times when danger came about, oftentimes in the most horrible or unexpected form, sometimes both at once. Some dangers even came out of good intentions, and good deeds, and those were the worst out of them all. The day was quiet and warm, perfect for a stroll, but Kenshin and Jack had to keep their guard up and watch out for those people who were chasing after them. To stray, even for a second, would lead into ruin.

9: Ring of Fire -- The Unexpected Betrayals

It was growing dark by the time the two wandering samurai reunited and left the small shack. The community they had spotted earlier was behind them as well; a grove of thick and clumpy trees surrounded either side as the sky became dark and a chill set in. There was no moon that evening, only the guidance of stars, and crickets and frogs as company. The two samurai felt a little more vulnerable at night, even though they had both fought many battles under the cover of darkness. In a sense, they were just as safe in the darkness, because while they couldn't see well, neither could any enemies.

A strange smell rose with the whirling wind as they made their way cross the country and into a very open land (save for the groves). Both men thought they had recognized the scent but its identity and origin escaped them. It seemed to float all around them, perhaps from a rotting animal or some bitter land that still stank of war. Maybe the pitch and tar from the community they passed had gotten caught in the wind, or else some foul abomination awaited them in the future. Kenshin clearly remembered that one of his potential killers had a deadly smell to him, like the smoke of Hades, and prepared for a possible encounter.

Since there was no moon and no light save from the glow of stars, it was quite dark outside and thus very difficult to really see anything. It then came as a shock to both Jack and Kenshin when a blaze of orange light flashed out of nowhere and came rushing towards them. It struck the ground not far away from them, showing itself as an arrow with the tip on fire. To receive such a guest at such an hour only meant that one of their pursuers was not far away, but they had to wonder why he would reveal himself in that manner…

And then, in a horrific flash, the true identity of the scent they had discovered became known, and the purpose of the flaming arrow was revealed.

Instantly, a great bonfire exploded around them, rising up to three times their height and burning with an unquenchable rage. The flames circled around them in a perfect radius, only giving them perhaps an arm's length of space between safety and the wall of fire. They were surrounded by the great heat, and found it a grievous fault of theirs that they had not noticed the spilled oil all around them before it was too late. They were forced to cover their faces with the sleeves of their gi as sparks and embers rained down on them from every possible angle.

"Like the old saying goes, my prey," said a sudden yet very familiar voice from nearby, "if at first you don't succeed, try and try again. I grew tired of simple tricks such as poisoned tea and booby-trapped roads, and I've even evolved from the exploding coins and bees. This circle of fire, I must admit, is one of my more diabolical ideas."

As the blinding light of red, yellow, and orange gave the two trapped warriors an unwelcome vision, they saw the speaker approach their area slowly, a long rifle aimed at them. He was dressed in brown tweed that time and not the stately blue, but otherwise looked the same. Even in the light of the fire, the brilliant killer Melville Drakemoth was difficult to see, but (no pun intended) his voice spoke for him.

"You again!" shouted Jack, recognizing the stately man. He drew his sword, but the flames screamed back at him, forcing him to back off. Melville Drakemoth laughed cruelly and kept his rifle aimed at them.

"Yes, you're going to find it nearly impossible to escape that cage, unless you can dig like a mole. But I would shoot you long before you upturned a handful of dirt; my accuracy with firearms is something to behold. I wouldn't recommend plowing through either, for those flames are very hot and are fueled by oil and resin, as you might've guessed. With that grass beneath it, it will slowly inch towards you and consume you alive, and if it does not, I will simply create a hole in your foreheads with my rifle. I believe this is where the hunt ends, gentlemen. I find it no surprise that I emerge victorious."

"How did you find us?" demanded Kenshin bitterly. "We left no trail and there was no way you could've made it all the way out here ahead of us."

"Ah, the minds of the simple are really astonishing, in a stupid way," sighed Drakemoth in a gloating manner. "You really are strong and evasive, but you lack in intelligence. Remember that fire in the village, where you demonstrated your heroism? I started that, you know."

"You what?!" shouted Jack in astonishment. He snarled at Melville like he had never snarled at a beastly creature since. "…Savage!"

"It was just the first step I took to snare you in," replied the Englishman apathetically. "After the two of you left, I pretended to be one of the people you saved and asked all the villagers where you two had went off to. We met a little bit later, and that's where we parted ways briefly, but I still had my act to fall back onto. I managed, through sheer persistence, to track down wanderers and peddlers who recognized you as they passed you on the road, and told them the same story I told the villagers.

"It became difficult for me after that, no doubt, but in the end, I won through. I found an earthy farmer who spoke very highly of you, and of course I put on my act for him as well. 'Ah, yes, I know of them!' I exclaimed. 'They saved me from a fire, you know? Say, which way did they go? I was in such a panicked state that I forgot to thank them properly!' Naturally, the fool told me where you were headed. You don't know this, but I was a secret witness to your all's saving that poor lonely widow. I saw the man in white go off in one direction and reasoned that it would be a very good time for me to gain a lead.

"You see, gentlemen," he continued in a very dark, sinister voice, "your kindness has been the downfall of you. Saving those people, whether from fire or exhaustion or debtors, has cost you your lives. All I had to do was pretend I was one of them, and I was easily led to your trail. It really is amusing how stupid a person can be--I reiterate again, your generous hearts and your selfless code of the samurai was your weakness. I merely exploited it to its greatest degree, and this was my reward. Does that infuriate you?"

It did, but Kenshin and Jack tried not to dwell on it. After all, they still had to find a way out of the inferno they had been trapped in.

"If this is what kindness bears, then I would gladly lift that burden for all my years," stated Kenshin proudly. "Extending one's own kind acts towards another can bear no reward but satisfaction. It is not we who are fools, but you."

"Who, me?"

"Yes!" said Jack. "A man who uses a person's kindness for foul gain will end up only in ruin! You have done despicable things in the name of good, and have taken advantage of people who only meant to help one they thought their own! We may be in this trap temporarily, but I would wager t'would be you in the flames soon!"

"Ha!" snorted Melville, shouldering his rifle briefly as he scoffed at them. "What arrogance! Are you truly in a position to say anything except for screams and wails of torment? You will be the guests of the Reaper long before I shall join him, my prey." After that, neither Jack nor Kenshin nor even their would-be killer said anything, at least concerning morals and kindness and the lack thereof. Quietly, the two samurai tried to plot a way out of their predicament. Jack knelt down to the ground and brought his friend with him.

"(I have a plan, but it will be dangerous,)" he whispered. "(I noticed there was some oil on this ground that was not consumed in the flame. I want you to take a handful of it and keep it.)"

"(Yes, but what for?)"

"(If I use all my strength, I believe I can vault you over these flames,)" hissed Jack. He glanced up briefly and did a crude calculation in his head. Kenshin would make it with just enough room to spare for his sandals, if Jack threw him high enough. "(When you are over them, throw the oil down onto the flames. He will not be able to fire if he cannot see you through the wall. I will toss on some oil in the other direction so he does not hit me.)"

"(But what about you? Won't you be trapped?)"

"(Do not worry about me, my friend,)" replied Jack with a smirk. "(I have gotten through worse dangers than this. Just disable him and be careful. I will wait for your signal that he is gone, then I will join you.)"

"(Yes, but--)"

"(Just trust me,)" he said with a wink. Kenshin frowned but showed Jack that he understood his plan. The two warriors each scooped up a bit of oil that had not been touched by the fire, and carefully got into position, trying not to arouse the suspicion of their captor. Quickly, Jack threw his handful of oil onto the flames, igniting them to a furious height and degree and surprising Drakemoth temporarily. With every second precious, he quickly lifted Kenshin's feet off the ground and hoisted him over the wall of fire. Kenshin also jumped the moment he could, adding a bit of spring as he shot over the wall. He tossed his handful of oil as he sailed over, securing his escape so that Melville could not see him--

--and trapping his friend in the process.

"Blast! What happened? What sort of tricks are they up to?" Melville growled and tried peering through the high flames to see if his prey were still trapped, but the walls were too high and the fires burned too brightly for him to see anything. For all he knew, they could either be dead or free.

"What's the matter, Drakemoth?" called out a voice from the dark night. Drakemoth flinched and clutched his rifle close to him. The voice whispered out to him again, like a passing ghost in haunt. "Can't you see me? Are you afraid?"

"Balderdash! Fear is a pointless and stupid emotion! I have no need for such a thing! Come on out now and show yourself!" Suddenly and unexpectedly, his wish was granted. In a flash, a man wearing red emerged directly in front of him, scaring him briefly.

"You mean like this?" said the man. Drakemoth swore.

"AAH! Curse you, Hitokiri Battousai! I curse you back to the flames where you came from!!!" He raised his gun, but no sooner was it moving did Kenshin swipe at the object with his sword, neatly cleaving it in two and rendering it useless. Flawlessly, the former Battousai leaped closer to Drakemoth and pointed the tip of his blade at the man's petrified neck.

"Leave this place now," growled Kenshin darkly, "and never return." Melville, frozen from the sudden shock of it all, slowly raised his hands into the air, trying to keep his dignity.

"…Yes, I see," he sneered. "But this is not the end. We will all meet again, Kenshin Himura, some time or another. You cannot evade this destiny of death forever!" With a spat threat, Drakemoth's hands reached for his cufflinks and quickly tore them off, throwing them onto the ground where they released a billowing cloud of smoke. Kenshin coughed violently as the fog spread, and though he tried to wave the cloud away, it was in vain. By the time the air was clear, the assassin was long gone.

He just sighed and tucked his sword away. Then he remembered Jack, and began to grow concerned.

"Jack! He's left! Are you all right?!"

As soon as he called out to his friend, Jack suddenly sprang out from the wall of fire, soaring so high into the air that Kenshin looked on in awe. He landed gracefully on the grass, his gi soiled and a little burnt, but otherwise he was fine. As if it were all an ordinary thing for him, Jack stood back up and gave Kenshin a smile.

"He is gone? Well, that is good. We should keep moving if we want to avoid further detection." The samurai turned around and followed his own advice, with a curious Kenshin right beside him.

"Jack, how did you _do_ that?" he had to wonder. "Can you fly?" The older samurai turned his head and gave Kenshin a proud smirk that was visible even in the darkness.

"No--jump good!"


	10. Slayers of Men

Melville Drakemoth bristled with irritation. He had not expected his prey to be so cunning and elusive--seldom few of his victims ever lasted beyond his second attempt to destroy them--but the combined forces of Kenshin Himura and Samurai Jack were, he hated to admit, too much for him. All his years of education, learning, and study, most of it focused on the matter of assassination and execution, was all but wasted on the two samurai. They were like leprechauns, quick and tricky and nearly impossible to catch, and as the sun rose up on his angered brow, he realized that it would be very hard for him to continue on by himself. He felt like a coyote that failed to catch roadrunners.

Ironically, as light came into a world once covered by the darkness of night, a black cloud emerged from some distance away. Melville noticed it and lost his temper to curiosity: it was hard believing a dark cloud would come out of nowhere just like that. An even queerer sight revealed itself to him when the smoke took shape, the shape of a man, or at least something faintly resembling man. The figure that came from the dark smoke looked to be more devil than human, dressed in black leathery clothes with a charcoal tint to his skin. A death's mask of white was painted on his bare head, accentuating the eerie image. The being spoke, too.

"Fortune does not favor either one of us, Englishman."

"And who are you to say this to me?" wondered Drakemoth with a raised brow. The being cackled quietly, revealing teeth that seemed more suited inside the mouth of a shark.

"Fumus Adhvanit, 'The Vanishing Smoke', and an unexpected ally of yours. I've been observing your methods for awhile, Englishman, and I must say that I like your style--and what style it is, too! The lost art of sophisticated assassination flourishes in your bones; even I admit that the art is lost to me, who is savage and unrelenting. You are on the hunt for two men, are you not?"

"Yes," answered Melville in a snooty voice. "What do you know about it?"

"Enough," answered the man in black. "I have been sent to kill the Man Slayer; he has an accomplice with him who must also die. Do you know what I speak of?" Melville nodded his head.

"Yes. I faced these same two before. I've given many attempts, but it disgusts me that they've all failed. Narrowly at times, yes, but still they failed. …Why are you speaking with me now? Do you want to work with me?"

"It would seem logical to pool our resources," growled Fumus quietly. "You have a great brain for death, and know it quite intimately. You're as secretive as a ninja and methodical as a forensics expert. You lack in sheer power and speed, but that is something I would gladly help you with. It would be wise of us to fill in for each other's weaknesses."

"And what is _your_ weakness?" wondered Melville. Fumus' smile became a scowl as he unfolded a part of his black jacket to reveal a long, deep, nasty scar over his chest. The wound still seemed to be festering, even so long after it had been dealt. Drakemoth cringed.

"The man in white did this to me. It is difficult to harm me with the weapons of mortals, but the sword he used was of a different caliber. A sacred tool, forged to battle against demons and wicked creatures--and who save my masters is more wicked than I? That is my weak point, Englishman, and since you do not succumb to such tools as well as I, it is _there_ that I need your help." Melville couldn't help but smile as he recalculated the possible scenarios he could execute now that this man in black was willing to be his ally.

"Hmm… it's quite a thought, yes. But let's not rest on such laurels. I know of a man, a fellow who came with me to this country, who could not only help us but would be of invaluable help, as well. With him on our side, well… it would be overkill, I suppose, but certain methods must be used to catch and kill prey like this."

"And who is this person?" Melville's smile now became as cruel as he was.

"Have you ever heard of Rygar the Red?"

10: Slayers of Men -- Assassins Join Forces to Ambush the Battousai!

Not knowing where his secret companion was had been the least of Melville's worries. He was a good tracker--he had hunted down both Kenshin and Jack with great success--and Fumus could move at a speed that defied human physics. Also, Rygar was about as difficult to hide as the sun; he stood out and made himself noticeable even when he didn't want to. News had already spread of the infamous man's whereabouts, and since so many people were terrified of him, they scrambled and ran in order to achieve some better safety. All Drakemoth and Fumus had to do was go upstream instead.

They found their large, fiery-haired companion all by himself, in the pub of a newly-abandoned town. The entire place had literally been evacuated ever since some local recognized the brute, and now he was all by himself, which made finding him incredibly easy. That was Rygar's weak point, but for Melville and Fumus, it was a great help. They found him and cornered him in the pub, smiling wicked and selfish smiles as they did.

"Good evening, old chum," greeted Melville. "It's been awhile since I last saw you. You exude the same aura now as when you did when you first came to this country. It's really amazing how one man can clean out a whole town without ever really trying. Of course," he now said to Fumus, "back in earlier days, he could destroy towns such as these with the same speed. It's no wonder people fear him, as they doubtless fear you."

"Death and shadow are the darkest terrors of men's minds," said Fumus in a hollow voice. "You, Englishman, may have the deepest sense of terror within you, for nobody would suspect or even see you. It is in secrecy and quiet where the true fear of this bunch lies. And as for you," he grunted, giving Rygar's shoulder a nudge, "what have you done to help us? You haven't even laid a hand on the manslayer. I think you've been _helping_ them."

Rygar said nothing and drained his mug.

"Well, you will help us now," purred Fumus wickedly. "Each of us bears strengths that make us powerful and feared. Each of us has weaknesses that can only be overcome by joining up together. If the three of us were to go out and face our foe--excuse me, our _foes_--then there would be no cause for us to fail. What do you say?"

A pause.

"I say you should leave me be," muttered the older man. "I don't want to get involved if I don't have to. But knowing you two, you will find some way for me to fight with you. I will end up having 'no choice in the matter', right?"

"That time has already come," said Melville quietly. "It is time you cast away your moralistic ideals and your gentleness towards these two. One of them is a killer, plain and simple; the other interferes in our plans and must be eliminated. You yourself are a sinner, my friend; there is no use trying to make yourself seem holy. I enjoy killing, yes, but I do not do it madly like this man here, and there is no use accusing a devil of murder. If you stay here you may as well drink hypocrisy instead of beer."

Rygar grunted, and was smart enough to know that he had been caught. There really was no use trying to stay out of this delicate conflict: people had been killed and justice, cold and hard and cruel justice, had to be laid out. Learning under his old Master had clarified his mind and gave him a path of virtue, but within this virtue were also responsibilities.

Was it truly right to kill a man because he himself had killed?

Was it right to execute him for killing in a war?

Why did he kill? Was the opposite side a group of sinners who deserved death?

Or was the man himself a sinner who deserved to die?

The only thing Rygar knew was that he, above all else, deserved the punishment.

He had no right to carry the same judgment on others.

"I have no right to carry the same judgment on others," he grumbled. "I'm sure if things were different, Himura would be the one after _me_, and you two may very well have teamed up with _him_. I can understand him and his situation, but he will never be able to understand me. I was a beast; he fought for a good reason, though I do not know if such bloodshed can really be called good."

"Now's not the time to be a pacifist," muttered Melville cruelly. "You're either for us or against us. It's time you decided once and for all. You came to this country for a reason, and it wasn't for sightseeing. It's time you perform your duties or leave, one or the other. Don't brood."

Rygar didn't. He stood up.

"Justice is not the only right in this world," he announced firmly as he towered over his companions. "Absolution is not the only means of cleansing one's soul. I am worthless outside of battle; perhaps one last, great, glorious fight is what I need to see the truth. Yes, you are right. I must decide, and though I hate to do it, I will carry my arms into the battle one more time, and see what I am made of. As with all wars, this one will be decided by who is right."

"I'm going to be sick," hissed Fumus. "I don't care about any of this nonsense. I just want to delight in my mission, and collect my fee, and yes, extort the animal desires of humans one more time. The devil has suggested temporary wealth and power to these pitiful creatures; they drove it forward, which resulted in hiring me to do their filthy work. I love it."

"We're wasting time speaking of morals and devils," snapped Melville bitterly. "We either go after those two slippery samurai or leave the country. I'm going; I suggest you two follow me and keep quiet." With that, he lifted his cane and marched out of the pub, with Fumus following quietly (not because he was asked, but because he wanted to), and Rygar after all of them. The three killers were silent for the rest of their journey.

----------

Like Jack and Kenshin had done before them, the three assassins traveled across the countryside, coming across towns, mountains, rivers, plains, forests, and wet marshes in their journey towards a great climax. Melville was the one who performed most of the hunting, while Fumus and Rygar kept themselves hidden from view. Extorting the good people of the land for information concerning the two samurai was a nasty trick, but Drakemoth could sink very low if he needed two.

The two warriors had moved south.

The trail picked up after that; Fumus scouted the areas they went through for more clues. It wasn't hard following the two warriors, especially across virgin grass or muddy fields. Towns and villages had housed the warriors before, and innocently directed the three killers (or one, since they only saw the harmless-looking Englishman) nearer and nearer to their ultimate destination. Like a man pulling on a rod to bring a fish in, the three killers drew ever closer to their target, and began to plan how best to ambush them.

"Hold it," said Melville suddenly with a raise of his hand. The other two men stopped as he raised his nose in the air and began to sniff. "…I smell pollen."

"Pollen?" Melville turned to face the other two, a devilish smile curling on his face as he came to a wonderfully wicked conclusion.

"Yes, pollen. And smoke from an oil-lit fire. Gentlemen, our quarry is close at hand. I can smell them all the way from here."

---------------

Jack and Kenshin smiled as they lay on the grassy floor, watching the last wisps of red and gray erase from the sky so that the blue could be produced. A massive blanket of clouds covered the sun, wrinkling the light and the darkness together likes waves reflecting glowing fires off of a midday sun. Shafts of light poked out here and there; gold and deep indigo blue were crumpled together in the blanket of fluff high above, and silvery clouds curled across and around, painting a picture that would never be reproduced again.

After a bit of thought, they agreed that the best way to draw their enemies into the area was to do nothing. Moving about and trying to hunt them down would do them no good anyway, for they could've easily gotten "lost". But lying out in the open, doing little movement if any, was a better way to find their foes, although the idea was risky. The two hardly relaxed, though, as they kept their eyes and ears open for any signs of their pursuers. In the long run, they were not disappointed.

The rustling of grass gave indication that the two men had visitors, and so they stood up to see who had come. They saw Melville Drakemoth coming up over a hill, staring at them hard with a cruel, twisted glower. Beside him was a nightmare, a man in black who was too hidden to be real. Behind them, strongest of all, was a tall man draped in green and brown, his fiery hair making him stand out. Jack and Kenshin had expected to be found out in the open, but never by all three of their opponents at once.

No words needed to be exchanged as the two parties closed the gap between them and met, somewhere in the fields and countries of Japan, a mere three years after a sea of blood washed the land clean. Melville produced a thrusting sword from his side, Fumus flicked out two long daggers with a twist of his hands, and Rygar slowly unsheathed his great iron broadsword. Kenshin and Jack responded by showing their reverse blade and sacred sword, and only the whistling wind gave any indication that there was a world apart from the five.

The inevitable battle had come. It was time for a showdown.


	11. The War of the Blades

11: The War of the Blades -- A Great Battle!

Wind. That was their only barrier. Wind. Its walls would not hold long.

In a flash, Jack soared after Fumus with his blade raised high and his lungs screaming. The demon crossed his swords and caught the attack, holding the samurai's deadly blade at bay. Kenshin jumped in after his friend, his own reverse sword screaming in the wind, but before he could cut anything, Melville's fencing sword cut the attack off and held it firmly. Kenshin glared at the older man as the he defended himself, and shoved him away as he went on a solo assault. Jack kicked Fumus hard and charged after the devilish man, but he was already spinning wildly, throwing his swords in the air and creating nasty noise as steel crashed against steel.

Jack thrust his blade down, Fumus stepped aside; Jack swung horizontally and Fumus ducked underneath, then countered with a slice to his arms. Jack quickly hoisted his arm into the air to avoid the attack, and used the height of his blade to swing back at the devil from above. Fumus jerked to the side and cringed as he received a small cut on the shoulder--a nick, really, but it burned like a hot coal had been placed on it. He glared, but suddenly turned around as Kenshin was thrust onto him.

Now Kenshin had been fighting Melville all that time, and while the wiry man was a truly good fencer, he couldn't match up to the Battousai in pure power and skill. He had held his own using jabs and lunges to keep the red samurai at bay; he thrust his pointed sword violently, or slashed at the air with it, making sure Kenshin would not go anywhere near him. Himura decided to run and leap out at him instead, but once he was in the air, a mighty slap from Rygar sent him sailing, straight into Fumus' waiting grasp.

Now Kenshin was in on the action. He quickly wheeled around and slashed, but Fumus easily protected himself and assaulted the man-killer with both blades at full speed, rendering him useless to do anything except defend. Jack rushed in screaming, but was tackled by Melville before he could save his friend. The sophisticated killer cut at the samurai and sliced his sleeve, but Jack fought back and shoved Melville across the plains. He rushed after the Englishman with his sacred blade singing in the breeze.

Jack suddenly bumped into Rygar, who had stepped in and used his bulk to freeze the warrior in his tracks. The mighty man hefted his greatsword in the air, swinging it like the blades of a windmill before bringing it crashing down to the ground. Jack gritted his teeth and rolled across the ground, narrowly missing mutilation. The sword came down again and again, slashing the ground apart as it swung closer and closer to the rolling warrior. Jack's dizziness was the least of his worries.

Meanwhile, Kenshin could not detect any kind of pattern as he fought off the feral attacks of the Vanishing Smoke. The man's speed was astounding and his technique was unlisted; he just slashed madly at anything that came his way. The swords whisked through the air and made songs as they struck down and around Himura's waiting blade; Kenshin was cut several times as a few stray slices managed to get around his guard. He was being driven further and further away from Jack, who was now under the assault of the gigantic Rygar.

He growled to himself and used as much effort as possible to shove Fumus away, and gave him a cut across the face before he leaped over the mad killer towards his friend. Kenshin ran down the field and tackled into Melville, but was stopped as the wiry killer threw a dust cloud in his face. Kenshin coughed violently and tried to clear his face, but before he could regain his senses, Melville knocked him with the blunt end of his fencing sword, sending him to the ground.

He quickly regained his bearings and held his sword out in front of him, using it to shield his chest from the soaring deadliness of the epee. His foot found Drakemoth's leg and swept at it, sending the man to the floor alongside with him. Kenshin flipped over and heaved his weight on the other man, digging his elbow in until Drakemoth shouted and hurled him aside. He desperately scrambled to his feet and tackled Kenshin, who was just flipping up. Both men landed in the ground again and wrestled for control of a fleeting foothold.

Jack dug his fist in the ground and pulled out a clod of dirt, thrusting it into the face of his pursuer as he rolled away from the deadly blade. This gave him a tiny window of freedom to stand back on his feet and retrieve his blade. As Rygar wiped the soil off his face, Jack charged in with his blade shining in the sunlight. Rygar winced through his blinded eyes and carefully kicked at the samurai before he could be cut. Jack was sent flying, and soon both men had lost their disadvantages. They ran at each other and Rygar swung first; Jack crouched underneath the heavy sword and leaped up into the air to deliver a blow from above.

Rygar patiently waited for the white-robed man to descend, and grabbed him suddenly just before his thin blade could split him in twain. He whirled him around like a sling, tossing him further across the field and into the fight between Kenshin and Melville. Jack crashed into both of them, flattening them and himself with a nasty boom. Melville and Kenshin groaned; Fumus saw his window of opportunity open and rushed towards them all, his blades blazing in the sky. Melville groaned and shoved both warriors aside with a kick; Kenshin tumbled up and saved his friend from the wrath of the devil by raising his sword and stopping the twin blades. Fumus cackled and swiped at him secretly.

Kenshin shouted as his robe was cut; he jumped back in surprise, almost tripping over Jack. The other samurai quickly rolled to his feet and guarded against the pointed epee of the brilliant killer, his back against Kenshin's. Both warriors were at a standstill, trapped against each other with an assassin bearing down on them. The ground began to rumble as Rygar the Red tore off after them, his steps shaking the ground. He screamed out a vicious roar, his broadsword raised in the air ready to cut everything in two.

Kenshin quickly jumped up and kicked Fumus in the face, holding his sword out to parry the oncoming blow. Jack followed by ducking down and butting his enemy in the stomach, whirled around quickly, and hopped over to join his friend. His sword was out in a flash and met the large blade of Rygar. Sparks and embers hopped out madly, like little demons, as the sacred sword and reverse blade struggled just to keep the mighty steel from descending down. Both warriors bared their teeth as they fought against the immense strength of their opponent, but Rygar didn't look fazed at all. He just glared down at them, coldly.

Sensitive ears picked up footsteps--the samurai realized that their foes were back in the battle and heading right for them. Their immediate concern was still bearing down on them like the hot sun above, and with no way to move out of the lock without tearing their bodies apart, they were defenseless. Quickly, Jack and Kenshin kicked Rygar's chest with all their might, knocking the wind out of him briefly. He was forced back just long enough for them to turn around and face their persistent foes.

Fumus and Melville fought as one, three blades flying against two in a hailstorm of steel and fire. A blazing sun bounced off the shining swords, shooting light out in every direction as the madness resumed. Jack decided to quickly pick off Drakemoth, since his skills with a sword were the least of his worries. He was slower than Fumus, so Jack had to fight off the dark devil alongside Kenshin before he had the honor of facing the other man. Fumus was more than happy to accommodate them both and quickly threw himself back into the fray as he twirled his blades in the sky.

Kenshin hoisted his sword and smashed it against the left blade, quickly strafing in that direction so he could fully concentrate on just one side. Jack took the right, and together the two samurai fought against a single opponent, crashing and clanging steel upon steel in a tornado of raw power. Fumus' arms danced in a frantic effort to keep up with two skilled warriors at once, but even his fanatical speed was no match for their combined efforts. He screamed suddenly as Jack sliced his arm, and forced himself to retort back with his other hand. Kenshin took that split second of time to slam his sword right into Fumus' ribs, making the devil cry out even more.

He immediately swung out and met the lunge of Melville as he caught up to the battle, but was suddenly thrown aside as Rygar returned to the battle and swung at him. Jack found himself trapped with three villains to face, but quickly gathered his strength and will, holding his blade firmly and daring them all to strike. They did.

His sword sailed up first to smash against Fumus' knife, then sideways to parry Drakemoth, then back around to redirect the massive broadsword. He leaped backwards, cutting at Fumus' swing just as Melville plunged in again, and came out on Drakemoth's other side. The Englishman turned and swung again, but Jack sidestepped the blade and crashed his sword down hard, completely shattering the man's epee. Melville cursed and punched Jack in the face before he retreated.

The samurai was knocked back but not far; he thankfully avoided the fury of Fumus Adhvanit as the devil swiped at the air. The Vanishing Smoke was not through just yet, and raced after his prey like a thundering lion. Jack recovered just in time to see a black-skinned devil with a white face chasing after him, and instinctively raised his sword to protect himself from whatever evil would befall him. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, Kenshin ran in and tackled Fumus, shoving him away before Jack could face him.

The Battousai quickly sliced at Fumus' body with delicate grace and furious power, cleaving scars everywhere on the creature's body as he pushed him further away. A whirlwind of steel and embers scorched the creature, and pain was inflicted heavily as many of the blows fell upon the large scar on his chest, the one Jack had made. Fumus growled furiously as his body was being torn apart, but could do nothing under such a surprise attack. He received unexpected help when Kenshin suddenly yanked his sword around and swatted a dart from the sky. Kenshin glared at the thrower for the briefest of seconds, and shouted for Jack to take care of the crafty Drakemoth. These few seconds of distraction away from Fumus cost him dearly; he received a nasty cut in the back once Fumus got his bearings back.

Kenshin snarled and turned around to fight his opponent, taking a few seconds to notice that the wounds he had given his enemy were slowly healing. His blade was no longer as fast as it was; its skill was now being spent on defending himself and spotting flaws in Fumus' attack. As his blade swirled around the air and made sparks from smashing against the smaller swords, he took note that Fumus' swings mostly aimed for the neck, chest, stomach, and other vital areas. He quickly stabbed back at Fumus' shoulder, expecting him to move aside. The devil swerved just as he expected, so Kenshin gave him a kick to the chin just as he strafed.

He rushed in and slapped the blunt end of his blade on the Vanishing one's shoulder with enough force to split a log, crushing his arm, nerves and muscles and everything in between. Fumus yelled out loud and quickly countered with his other arm, crushing Kenshin on the chin as he swung. Both warriors smashed up against each other again and again, likes waves on rocks, one of them disabled and the other bearing injuries from the fight. Kenshin's face was like a lion during the kill, snarling with nostrils flared wide open and teeth bared and white.

Jack swung after Drakemoth and missed, but the man was not so fast as to avoid another blow. Jack slashed horizontally and cut the man's bowler in half, revealing a small puff of hair beneath the hat. Drakemoth snarled and threw the wasted object away, producing a cane to take its place. A small pointed tip popped out of the cane, so Melville improvised and used that as an offensive device. Jack had no objections and fought the man deep in the nearby bushes.

It was the samurai's turn to be on the offensive. Jack weaved his weapon up and down, painting pictures of silver and orange as his sword crossed through the air and forced Melville away. As he attacked Drakemoth, he could feel the trembling of the ground as Rygar ran off after him, and knew that he had little time. Jack ultimately decided to shove his foe deep into the bush--he jumped up and grabbed hold of the branch of a tree, swung on it, and used his momentum to knock Melville far away, where he landed in the thick of a painful thorn bush. Jack landed and wheeled around just in time to face the wrath of Rygar.

The mighty killer plowed through the trees like wildfire, using his great blade to slice through several in a single blow. The great forest was devoured by his sword and strength, but Jack stood firm and waited for his foe to come. Leaves spewed out everywhere as birds screamed and flew away from the dreaded force. Jack scooted aside to avoid the crash of a nearby tree, and stood in silence as he stared back at the Blood-Red Battousai.

He and Rygar glared at each other, just as they glared before and would probably glare again, one noble hero standing up against an infamous slayer of men and cities. Rygar swung his sword around, pointed it at Jack, growled, and dared for the samurai to strike. Jack rushed in screaming, his blade splitting apart the air, but Rygar remained perfectly motionless. His hand shot out like a snake when Jack was just a breath away, knocking the samurai away with a blow as powerful as a wrecking ball. Jack rolled and bounced on the ground, until he came to a motionless stop.

"Get up," grumbled a voice from above. Rygar lifted Jack up with one hand and twirled the man's body around until his face was looking at him. "You are a warrior. You cannot possibly be spent already! Rise up, warrior, and show me your strength!" Jack groaned, opening his eyes to meet the fire in his foe's, and slowly jerked himself away as he glared. He wiped sweat and blood off his face before answering.

"I have not yet begun to fight," he said in a low voice. Rygar nodded his head in approval and even seemed to smile, and gave Jack a wide berth so that the two could battle again. Rygar suddenly felt a stab of pain as Jack lunged forth and slashed with all his might, carving a scar on the mighty man's chest. Rygar growled in pain as his hand shot towards his chest, clutching the wound as his heart throbbed in agony. A husky sound came from his throat.

"Grr… ha… ha… ah, yes… that's the way. That's what I wanted to see, yes. You are definitely strong. If I had met you in my youth, warrior, I would have been a happier man. It's… too bad that I must do away with you, though. Tell me, what is your name?"

"The people call me 'Jack'," answered the samurai firmly. Rygar actually smiled and stood up despite his scar.

"Jack… That doesn't sound like an Oriental name. Very well, Jack--you and I shall fight as adversaries and not enemies, since I have no quarrel against you. Would you like to accept my challenge?"

"Very well," replied Jack with little time for consideration. "This fighting is pointless and our struggle meaningless, but a fair duel between two warriors is a challenge far too honorable for the battlefield. I shall fight you and see what you are made of, Rygar."

"Good, good." Rygar's mouth curled up in a sinister grin, and the monster of a man ran after Jack with his mighty lungs bellowing out ferociously. Jack screamed towards his opponent as well, his body and soul completely free of fear or restraint. Their screams came to a disastrous climax as they crashed against each other, but Rygar's large blade and mass was so great that he actually knocked Jack backwards from the charge. He instinctively swung his sword, but only hit empty air since Jack had thankfully fallen. The samurai saw an open spot and quickly lunged forth, slicing off a part of Rygar's side.

The redheaded warrior scowled for only an instant before he launched his foot against Jack and sent him flying through the forest. The samurai crashed into a tree, shuddering leaves off as his body thundered. Rygar screamed and mercilessly charged again, quivering the ground with every footfall. Jack came to and quickly dove to the side as Rygar's sword split the tree in two. The top part crashed to the ground, leaving the other part standing and Jack with a means of escape. Using the confusion of the falling branches, he ignored the pain in his body and sprinted away as fast as he could.

Meanwhile, Kenshin had been busy with Fumus. The skilled warrior had fought valiantly since he only had one killer to worry about, cutting and slicing at the dark fighter as two swords of blinding speed and devilish power tried to devour him. Kenshin's scars had slowly healed as the Battousai fought against his foe, but Fumus' injuries were whole as well, save for the ones that Jack dealt him. The warrior snarled and fought slower than usual, his swipes only going so fast or so high. Kenshin was giving him the fatigue blast treatment, keeping his pace slow and steady as he weathered the storm of the Vanishing one.

Fumus shouted in pain as he felt the blade of Jack suddenly scar at his backside, but the blow was meant to distract the dark one and not kill him. Kenshin noticed that the samurai was running away from something, and as he saw the forests trembling from some unknown power within, it didn't take long for him to figure out what it was. Kenshin did a 180 and ran alongside his friend as they retreated from the battlefield, but the fight was not over by a longshot.

Jack had a plan to ensure their survival and to eliminate all three of their pursuers at the same time, but he needed to run and separate the three in order to do so. He had already disposed of Melville, and Rygar would never catch up with them in time. Fumus was quick, but had been injured too greatly by the combined forces of the two samurai, so their window of opportunity was wide as they raced away from the battlefield.

Fumus Adhvanit, though, was known for his quick recovery and his speedy legs. He followed Jack and Kenshin the moment his senses came back to him, whole and complete and ready for a final confrontation. He swore to himself that one of them would never make it out of the final battle alive.

**__**

To be continued…


	12. Devil's Last Stand

12: Devil's Last Stand -- The Battle from Hell!

Knowing their pursuers would still be in pursuit of them long after they distanced themselves, Jack and Kenshin ultimately decided to split the three up and face them individually. It pained both warriors to be forced to face such violent encounters, where they would probably be forced to kill, but their very own lives were at stake there and no amount of convincing would save them. They would just have to deal with things as they came, one violent storm at a time.

They had time and distance on their side. Melville Drakemoth had been thrown into brambles, Rygar was stuck in a forest full of felled trees, and Fumus Adhvanit was severely injured. The samurai had bolted the moment they could, and didn't stop until they were convinced that their enemies were long gone. They turned around and waited for the flood of savagery to come, looking around the horizon for any sign of the killers. Jack felt an eerily familiar aura approaching, something that resembled the demonic Aku he had slain and would slay in his own time. He recognized the feeling to be the Vanishing Smoke, the devil-like man who might have very well been Aku's minion.

"Here they come," murmured Kenshin anxiously. He squeezed the hilt of his katana and patiently watched as the figure in black came nearer. It was Fumus, all right--the creature disappeared in a black column of smoke before long, and was lost as the wind carried the foul cloud away. Kenshin and Jack swallowed nervously as they waited for the demon to reappear and conclude his attack.

For the record, Kenshin had no problems with slaying a devil. He flipped his sword around so that the sharp end was out. Jack bit his lip.

There was almost no warning. Fumus erupted out of nowhere, his black cloak billowing as his blades whirled in the air and crashed back down. It took the reflexes of two veteran warriors to meet and deflect his power, and the stamina of bold hearts to resume a fight that was quick and merciless. It was like battling against a tornado.

Kenshin and Jack both pushed against the devilish man, sending him backwards with a grin. He laughed and threw off his cloak, revealing a very slim body whose skin was as black as a nightmare. He leered, his hairless white face glowing a ghastly illumination as the sun revolved, teeth bared and sharp like a bat's. His two blades, quite small and light, whirled in the air as he danced around and lashed out at his enemies. The Vanishing Smoke cackled madly as the warriors swung at him, and reduced himself to a black mist again just before he was cut. This battle would not be easy.

Kenshin and Jack stood back to back and used their combined vision to scout the entire area. Fumus appeared at Kenshin's left and drew the warrior in for solo combat; Jack stood by carefully and watched as his friend did battle again. He had gotten little rest from the violent chaos of the previous rumble, and though he looked to show some signs of fatigue, his steam was mighty and proud and carried him on as the Smoke laughed and inched Kenshin closer to his death.

The red samurai's sleeves were totally ripped off as Fumus sliced at his arms. There was no blood drawn, but the cloth was gone for good as it fell in the embrace of the wind. Kenshin strafed to the side and batted away Fumus' knife with a swing; he swung his sword in a crescent and smashed it against the dagger of the other. It quickly rose back up to block off the other knife, and Kenshin plowed the butt end of his sword into Fumus' face now that his weapon was in a good position. As the devil lurched back in a grimace, Kenshin darted forward and quickly sliced at his abdomen, carving out a thin scar. Fumus came to quickly and waved both his daggers at Kenshin, taking a tiny chunk out of the bride of his nose.

Kenshin leaped back in shock, and watched as Fumus laughed cruelly. His wound slowly healed up by some devilish means, and the evil man was ready to fight once again. Fumus became smoke to evade Kenshin's next attack, and floated over towards Jack where he leaped into solid form and collapsed on the warrior. Jack was sent to the ground as knives cut all across his body, but a quick swing of his sacred blade forced Fumus to shirk back in agony. A tiny cut had been made across both of his arms, and there it stayed forever, burning and devouring his dark flesh. Fumus scowled.

Jack picked himself up, dusted himself off, and ignored the cuts and scratches on his body as he waited for the killer to strike. Fumus snarled, but turned into smoke and retreated back to Kenshin, who was waiting for him. Himura kept his blade out and swatted at the knives as they came towards him, then finally lashed out with all his might against the evil man. His blade burned right for the devil's body, cutting a great canyon from the man's armpit to his hip, sending him backwards and howling with pain. It would be extremely hard for him to recover from a hit like that.

But before either warrior gave him the chance, Kenshin screamed out a war cry and lunged forth to finish the job. Scowling angrily, Fumus lamely threw his sword at the warrior in a feeble attempt to defend himself. Kenshin quickly dove around the object, knocked his enemy in the face with his shoulder as he tackled into him, and used every last fiber of his powerful strength to cleave off the creature's hand, a few inches above the wrist. A shriek came out of Fumus' mouth that sounded like the gasp of Hell itself, and the evil creature grasped his arm in shock and horror.

To the warriors' disgust, the amputated piece of dark flesh had been thrown to the ground, where it flopped around like a fish.

Coldly, Kenshin glared at his enemy with his sword pointed, daring him to attack with such injuries. Fumus was more surprised than hurt, though, and kept squeezing and rubbing his arm as if the shock of losing his hand had not yet been absorbed. He stared at Himura with a questioning gaze, not seeming angry in the least. He definitely wasn't bleeding--nothing came out of the leftover stump. It was as if a tree's limb had been cut off and the tree barely noticed it.

"So, I'm disarmed," purred Fumus emptily as he gazed at Himura. He also noticed that his hand was holding his other blade; he had kept the only other one. "Well, that's a first. I don't ever recall being mutilated in my life. Now that it's happened, I really don't feel any pain at all. Still, I must avenge the insult. You will be covered in darkness before this is over."

"Enough of your words!" stated Kenshin, holding his blade like a mighty king. "I will banish you back to the shadows where you crawled out of, and you will not harm me or my friend or any other person, that you will not. Even if I have to send you there piece by piece, I am prepared to fight to the last, that I am." Fumus finally showed some emotion and chuckled.

"So am I." With a snap, he flicked out his other sword and cut Kenshin on the chin; the Battousai jumped back in surprise, burrowing his violet eyes into the evil man's soul. Fumus laughed wickedly and attacked him again, but with only one sword in his possession, he was much slower and ineffective. Kenshin effortlessly fought him off, swinging his blade in time and keeping up with his enemy's easy patterns. It was obvious that Fumus wasn't left-handed, because his swings seemed somewhat childish and awkward.

Jack, however, immediately saw what was wrong and ran over to intervene before it was too late. He failed.

As soon as Kenshin got near Fumus' hand, the black object jumped up from the grass and latched itself to Himura's face. Kenshin screamed in terror as he was blinded and suffocated from the ghastly flesh, and yanked with all his might so that he could survive. Fumus merely stood back and watched his prey being slowly tortured--his prediction had come true in the most horrific manner.

But Kenshin's dark fate did not last long. Jack swerved across the field and slammed his blade on the hand, cutting it in two and destroying it completely, while rendering Kenshin's face untouched. He had learned the hard way (in a graveyard, of all places) that his blade did no harm to the pure of heart, and so was confident that he would not hurt his friend. Kenshin was surprised at the sudden flash of light, and gasped with air as the dark hand was released and destroyed.

Fumus Adhvanit shrieked in agony, and clutched his hand as pain finally came to him.

"Stay here and rest," said Jack as he placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. "You fought very well and have earned a break. Now, it is my turn! I shall vanquish this demon and send him back to the Pit!" Jack donned a mask of rock-hard concentration, and with the same cool, fiery calm he always carried, the samurai marched towards the yelping Fumus and prepared to end the monster's life.

"Demon," he announced over the squeals of torture, "you deserve no kindness for your deeds, but in order to erase your existence from this world, I shall be forced to end your life quickly and spare you this pain. Be fortunate to receive such a quick death, or else the pain you feel now would have gone on until you received your just rewards."

Evil to the end, Fumus lashed out at Jack despite his injury, salivating and screaming like a madman.

"You go to Hell, samurai!!!"

"NO!!" Jack cleaved into the air just as Fumus rushed towards him, and with a mighty crash that split the very atmosphere in two, he cleaved right through the monster's body and ended his life. The two halves of Fumus sailed on through the momentum, until finally they fell to the ground and burned up into ash and dust. Jack stared at the end of the abomination, then quietly sheathed his sword and sat down on the ground for a rest.

"I feel as if I'm getting too old for this sort of thing," he sighed with a smile. Kenshin laughed and took a few clean breaths of fresh air.

**__**

To be continued…


	13. The Cruel Intelligent Killer

13: The Cruel Intelligent Killer -- Melville's Malice Runs Deep

Kenshin badly wanted to rest, but doing it out in the middle of nowhere in plain view of his remaining two enemies was not a good idea. He bit the bullet and took his time crossing the remainder of the countryside as Jack scouted ahead of him for a place to rest. As he slipped down a hill and looked over the land spread out before him, the samurai came across a large body of water, so great and massive that it had to be the sea. He saw a small establishment just on the beach, a shack larger than the one the poor widow lived in but still quite small. Several boats were docked all around it; a large one caught his eye as an idea came to him.

"I believe I found something," he said as Kenshin caught up with him. Himura peered over the area, but didn't get it.

"Boats? What would we need those for?"

"We have two enemies left and they are both skilled, but one of them does not have the level of fighting experience that we do," he said. "I think if we can get this person to follow us on this boat, we may stand a better chance of defeating him. He will not have the resources he needs to plan elaborate methods of killing or capturing us."

"And it may provide a way for us to evade the other one," added Himura. He sighed and continued walking, straight towards the small dock. "But heed this, friend. I have no intention of leaving this country or even running away, that I don't. I do not wish to break my vow so soon, but I must end this quickly or I will never rest. We should get back to land once our pursuer is gone, that we most definitely should."

"Very well." He agreed and slid down the rest of the way until they were both at the pier. The dock master thought it odd that two sword-bearing men resembling samurai would want a boat, but business was business and so he allowed them on. Just as they were boarding, the two samurai turned around to see if they were being followed. Obviously, Drakemoth and Rygar did not have the means to conceal themselves as well as Fumus did, and so the appearance of the wiry Englishman was something that neither samurai missed.

"Here he comes," murmured Kenshin as he and his partner slipped on the boat. "We should best conceal ourselves and ambush him when the time is right. I do not believe we would have to kill him to defeat him--simply leaving him on this boat to drift would give us victory."

"To drift?" Kenshin smiled.

"Yes. There's food and water on this boat."

"But what if he comes back?" Kenshin pursed his lips in thought.

"He will not come back." Jack shrugged, and with the skills of a shinobi at his call, he made himself disappear into the bowels of the boat. Kenshin was gone in an instant, leaving Melville Drakemoth the chance to test his hunter's spirit. He was out of breath by the time he reached the dock master.

"Ex… excuse me… my good man!" he wheezed, managing to speak in fluent Japanese despite his origin and lack of breath. "Did… did you see… two… gentlemen… come this way? One was… wearing… a red outfit, and the other… was in… white."

"Yes, they came this way," replied the dock master, not sounding too sure of himself. Now things were getting even more odd, what with this strangely-dressed foreigner there, asking about the strange samurai in a voice that was strangely articulate in his language. He thumbed at the large boat that Kenshin and Jack were on, and said, "They went on that one. Why, do you need a ticket?"

"Yes, please. They nearly left me behind, drat it all. I'm a member of their traveling party; they know me well, so don't worry." The dock master became silent as he gave the strange man his ticket, but since it wasn't his business to ask about personal issues, he just wished the wiry man good sailing and went back to reading and pruning. Melville stepped aboard the boat and cast it away into the ocean as he chuckled darkly and began the hunt once again. He only stopped to curse and pick thorns out of his clothes.

"Meddlesome brats," he spat quietly. "They'll rue the day they tossed me into those brambles. Nobody makes a fool out of me."

----------

__

Clump, clump, clump, clump…

Clump-clump, clump-clump…

Clump, clump, clump… pause_._

Sniff. Sniff. Sniff. Pause.

__

Clump, clump, clump.

Sniff, sniff. Sniff. Hiss.

Kenshin could feel it. The floor made a tiny vibration whenever Melville's feet touched the ground. Clump. He was walking all over the boat, carefully studying it, watching for any signs of movement. Clump, clump, clump. He went very slow, and always peered in the cracks and holes where he thought a person could hide. He studied each area carefully, calculating possibilities and forming conclusions. Clump, clump, clump. Pause. Sniff, sniff. He was smelling the air. He had traced the scent of the samurai before, from the pollen he had dusted on them and the smoke that was left over from the ring of fire. Oh, yes. One failed attempt to catch his prey only meant that another clue would be unsolved. Clump. Clump.

Jack saw his shadow creep out over the boat. It slowly vanished into greater darkness as the skies became clouded. He saw a puddle forming on the boat, and then heard the uneasy hiss of rain come down. Melville cursed and paused just long enough to peer up at the watery heavens.

"It's raining now," he announced to the hidden samurais. "Soon it will grow into a storm. This boat may even capsize. Why don't you just come out now and get it over with?" As much as Jack and Kenshin wanted to do just that, they knew it wasn't the right time. Melville needed to be in an area that allowed them to easily ambush him. Luck was on their side--he didn't know where they were hiding, so he couldn't avoid certain ambush sites. Patience would be the key.

__

Clump, clump, clump. Hiss. Sniff, sniff.

"Blast," he grumbled. "Their scent has completely disappeared. It's this bloody weather. Water has a way of making foul odors vanish. I hope it's enough to clean this boat of the blood that will be staining it, in just a moment." He grumbled some more, then resumed his search around the boat, making sure to check and double check areas just in case his prey had moved. They would definitely move sometime, all right, but not in a way that benefited him.

"NOW!!" Melville's heart went berserk as a scream rose up from the rainy air; he felt a powerful weight crushing him, but was unable to dodge from the surprise attack. Both Jack and Kenshin had leaped out at the same time, tackling him as they finally revealed themselves. Melville was floored with a powerful bang, and stayed down as he scowled and grimaced at his injuries. Two blades found their way to his neck.

"I suggest you leave this country and never return," stated Kenshin darkly. Melville's growl could've rivaled a lion's by that time.

"The only way I'm getting out is if you or I have met with death. I do not expect to die anytime soon, man-slayer." Melville thrust his hand out suddenly, releasing a bundle of debris he had picked up. The contamination clogged up the faces of both warriors, forcing them to cough and claw as their pursuer escaped and made himself hidden. The rain helped clean their faces, but Melville was long gone by that time. Kenshin and Jack silently decided to split up and search for him, and kept their swords out and ready.

They went through the ship in almost the same manner as their pursuer did, taking two roads instead of one and carefully searched every possible place to hide, even the ones they had used. Melville was no master of disguise, but he had lots of wicked tricks and vowed to use them all if it was necessary. He jumped out suddenly as he saw one of the warriors pass his area, and lit a flare directly in their face, blinding them.

Drakemoth screamed and stabbed the butt end of his cane right into Kenshin's stomach, bowling the debilitated warrior over. Himura's eyes bugged out and he nearly hurled out his guts as the blow crippled him, but his senses came back quickly. He slapped Drakemoth away with the back end of his hand, then broke the cane and threw it over the river. His sword returned and begged to be used, but he was still blinded by the light of the flare.

"Curse you!" sneered the assassin. "Oh well. It wasn't an important item. You're still blind, I take it, so I can still deal with you very easily." He became silent, and Kenshin heard something very hard and very small scatter over the floor, probably a nasty trap. He heard Melville run away, so once he was alone, he bent down and carefully ran his hands over the floor. He winced suddenly as he came in contact with something very sharp, and decided to stay put until he could see.

Meanwhile, Jack had found his enemy retreating from the other side of the boat, and quickly ran over to intercept him. The samurai literally ran right into his foe, causing them both to fall down. He snapped to his feet first and prepared to fight off whatever the wiry man had in store. Drakemoth grinned.

"I have a present for you, too," he scowled. He tossed a black orb in the air and allowed it to fall on the floor. He smiled again, and with a tip of his hat, he ran back where he came. Puzzled, Jack rubbed his chin and carefully followed him. He ended up slipping and falling on the slick oil that Drakemoth had left behind. Though he struggled, the samurai found that it was nearly impossible to stand. He decided to crawl.

Melville came back to where Kenshin was, and found the Battousai rubbing his eyes. He cackled and charged after the handicapped man, swinging a backup blade he had. Kenshin did not become the manslayer simply by accident, and used the more advanced skills he had learned to swat away Drakemoth's charge. Melville nearly slipped on his own brambles, but laughed and safely stepped around them. Once he felt he was a safe distance from Kenshin, he produced a revolver and aimed it right at Himura's throat.

Kenshin smelled the horrible scent of metal and gunpowder and quickly dove to the side, forcing himself on one of the smaller brambles as the bullet passed him by. Melville cursed and fiercely kicked more of the barbed objects on the injured Battousai, pelting him with the razors until he curled up into a fetal position. He produced another revolver and aimed it at the back of his neck.

"This ends now!" he snarled. Kenshin was greatly injured and really couldn't muster the flexibility needed to squeeze out of the predicament, but luckily, he didn't have to. A man covered with black oil came running in to save him, and chopped the gun away with a fierce swipe of his sword. Melville screamed as his weapon was destroyed from his grasp, and wheeled around to give Jack a nasty glare and right hook. The samurai grabbed his arm and flipped him over on the ground in a judo move, then produced his sword and returned it to the killer's neck.

"You are right about one thing," he said calmly. "This _will_ end now." Melville snarled again and summoned his strength for one last run.

"Not if I have anything to say about it…" Drakemoth swept his feet, crashing into Jack's legs and forcing him to tumble. The samurai dropped his blade in the process, and Drakemoth was up once again to kick it far away. He placed his foot on Jack's backbone and slowly pressed down, crushing him gradually.

"You cannot win, fools!" he spat. "I may not be strong or quick like you, but all it takes is an advanced brain to topple the mightiest empires! I have studied a thousand methods of death and pain all my life, and I know each of them by heart. I am not a simple berserker like Fumus or a muscle head like Rygar, but an advanced human with all the knowledge of assassination in my mind! You could not have won! I am the perfect killer!!!" He laughed cruelly and crushed Jack further, forcing the samurai to growl under the pain.

With a mighty shout, Kenshin Himura ignored his pain and jumped up from out of nowhere, slamming himself into his enemy.

Melville shouted and screamed as he fell backwards, and lost his balance as his body tipped over the slippery edge of the boat and into the stormy sea, where he disappeared in a terrible splash. Kenshin stood still for a moment as he recovered his wounds--thankfully, none of them were very terrible--and helped Jack stand up as he carefully looked over the edge.

"He's gone," he said flatly. "Drowned in the sea. What a miserable end…" Jack quietly agreed, but before either one of them could even turn around, Melville resurfaced and glared at them both as he paddled to keep afloat.

"You fools!!" he shouted over the storm. "I told you that you couldn't win! I was champion swimmer at my university! This water means nothing more than a bothersome delay to me! I shall resurface and go after you again and again until you are dead! Do you not realize this, you fools?! I _will not_ stop!" Kenshin and Jack could only stare at the demented man, but there really seemed to be no way to stop him.

Suddenly, Melville Drakemoth felt a tug.

"What the devil?" he murmured. He felt another after that, and another still. He stared up at the boat wildly, and suddenly screamed in bloody horror as he felt his legs being shredded apart. Kenshin and Jack gawked as the man floundered around in the ocean, and forced themselves to look away from the bloody carnage as their enemy came under attack from a group of sharks.

**__**

To be continued…


	14. Flames of the Apocalypse

14: Flames of the Apocalypse -- Jack and Kenshin Finally Battle Rygar!

Kenshin was silent the whole time the boat gently rocked ashore. The storm had passed overhead, but the storm in his mind had not yet quelled. He just knelt there, his sword cradled in his arms, as he stared at the boat and the sea, thinking. Jack kept the ship on course, but couldn't help but wonder what was going on inside the mind of his friend. If it was about the grisly death of that last killer, then he didn't really have a cause to worry. Kenshin merely gave him a forceful push; he had slipped and fallen into the water himself. The odds of a group of sharks being in that very vicinity wasn't very high, so he really had nothing to blame except mother nature.

But Kenshin knew better. It was a cruel life he was leading--was _still_ leading, even three years after the bloodbath of the revolution. Those three battles had squeezed the innocence right out of his cheery smile, forcing him once again to believe in Kill or Be Killed. It was a merciless business. True, that assassin would've followed them to the ends of the earth, just as he promised, and if the sharks hadn't gotten to him, he would've just resurfaced and started all over again. In a sense, Kenshin had been very helpless during that last encounter. The only thing he could've done was either kill or leave everything in the hands of nature. He accidentally chose the latter, and only because circumstances led into it.

That was little comfort to him. Having the knowledge that a third battle was in store didn't exactly lift his spirits, either. According to eyewitness testimony made by himself and Jack, this last fight would be the worst out of them all.

The boat finally landed on a shore, and both warriors kept it secure. They wandered into the new land wondering what sort of fate was in store for them next, and discovered a fairly large, dusky village splayed out in front of them like a dinner table. The food, as it were, had gone sour by some awful means, for the town was empty and looked like it had been that way for years. The ground was burnt and the buildings were collapsing, and the only movement they saw was when the wind willed it so. It was a ghostly town, so Jack and Kenshin decided to turn back.

But a nagging, creeping feeling kept them there. As they were turning, they noticed a very large pagoda standing proudly at the town's border. Unlike the rest of the village, the pagoda had been spared the wrath of fire and decay, and looked to be as bright and new as the day it had been built. Jack was always the curious type, and since his wonder far outweighed Kenshin's, he rubbed his chin and walked towards it. Kenshin followed, and remained wary of their final pursuer. The pagoda doors were open.

No amount of preparing or meditation could truly prepare them for what they were about to face. They stared in surprise as they noticed their final foe had not only followed them there but had beaten them as well. He was crouching on the floor, his sword held in a relaxed position, his flowing green mantle covering all of his bulky body like a blanket. He was staring at the wooden ground, absorbed in another world that was hidden in the cracks, but he knew when he had company.

"What… are you doing here?" whispered Kenshin.

"This was the closest place that had a port," answered Rygar. "I noticed that boat leaving with Drakemoth on it, so I just looked for the next one over. I came across this town and this unadulterated pagoda, and figured that you would come here. Now that we're all here, I suppose it's finally time to stop procrastinating and running. I warned you two that when we met next, we'd be enemies. Fumus and Melville are obviously dead; there's no other explanation for you surviving this long." Gingerly, Rygar rose up with a small grunt and shouldered his massive sword.

"A pity it had to end this way, but this is the only path left for me. For the first time since leaving my Master, I am fighting for a good cause. I do not think that vengeance will solve any problems in the long run, but many people still grieve over what the Revolution did to their lives. I myself have caused enough sadness in my life; far be it from me to turn around and run when I can prevent more. This is my retribution, Kenshin Himura--and yours, too. We will both atone for the sin of murder and destruction in this single, final battle. The one in white doesn't need to be concerned with this."

"That time has already passed," stated Jack, standing next to Kenshin like a true friend. "This man is my friend and companion. I have no right to judge over what he did or why he did it, but he is doing his best to absolve his ways. If you insist on battling this man for some unjust cause, then you will have me to contend with, whether or not I need to be concerned." Rygar frowned and grunted, hissing out a sight.

"You're a true friend. There are too few people left in the world that would face such a danger when they need not to. Very well. I'll honor your request and send you to your demise alongside your companion. Let me just say that before you get into this struggle, you must realize that you will have no way of getting out. No amount of training or discipline can possibly prepare you for what you're about to face. You had a better chance of surviving in the Revolution, Himura."

"We shall see," he said darkly, taking hold of his blade as he prepared to face his very last obstacle. Rygar tossed his green mantle aside so that it wouldn't get caught, and aimed his large blade at both warriors.

"Do you have any last words?"

"Only that you are shaming yourself by this act of cowardice," stated Himura. "You said yourself that you tried to resolve your barbaric past by finding inner peace, and you even believed that you found cleansing at the hands of your Master. If you enter into this battle now, you will make all of his teachings worthless--and that young girl will have died in vain."

"Do not mention those people to me!" he snarled angrily. "I fight to remove every last trace of the animal I was--to honor the dead whom I have dishonored, and to kill the monsters of the world like you and me, who would slay helpless children at a single whim! The world doesn't need killers, Kenshin Himura. That is why I must fight you, and whether I die or you die, one less killer will be in the world. We shall just have to see which killer that is, then!"

"I still don't understand," replied Kenshin firmly. "You do not need to kill ever again, nor do I."

"I am sorry," whispered Rygar sadly, "but this is the only path I know. Now either fight me or die; you have no other choice!" Rygar roared out ferociously and charged at Kenshin like a raging bull, but Himura quickly leaped up and over the attack. Rygar swung his immense sword, crashing it into the ground where it dug a great crater in the wooden floor. Splinters flew out and scattered across the floor. Rygar yanked his blade out and watched as Kenshin descended.

"Even with your strength and size, a sword like that must be difficult to wield," he said. Rygar grinned once again and even chuckled.

"You'd like to think that… but that was only a test swing. Now the true fight begins." Suddenly, his hand snapped out like a snake and crashed against Jack, who had been standing there watching curiously the whole time. The white-robed samurai flew all the way across the room, crashing into the wall with a force powerful enough to make the whole building shudder.

Kenshin didn't even have time to blink before Rygar flew back out at him, as fast and furious as a wildfire. He barely managed to leap backwards as the mighty blade scoured the air and split the ground apart. Rygar was running again in no time, the furious weight of his blade meaning nothing at all as he charged. He swung it like a child would swing a twig, blindingly quick and with the battle-cry of a demon backing its every flight. Kenshin was once renowned for his speed, but never in his life had he faced something so positively relentless!

He attempted to leap high into the air to avoid the razor's kiss, but Rygar's hand was uncontrollably quick and snatched him by the sandals. The large man yanked Kenshin out of the air and sent him screaming towards the ground, where he smashed the noble samurai into the wood. Rygar shouted out furiously and slapped his powerful palm on Kenshin's exposed backside, forcing a horrible crunch and a shout to come up from the man's soul. Himura nearly blacked out from the staggering blows--he felt like a whole house had been smashed into him, twice!

Luckily by that time, Jack was on his feet and coming after the large man. Rygar demonstrated a terrible, chilling side to him as he stood up to his full two-meter height and watched as the samurai came after him. Jack screamed and jumped high into the air, but at the very last second, he was swatted away by Rygar again. He flew into another wall, nearly breaking the material apart, yet somehow managed to limp away and come after the big man again. He decided _not_ to attack from the air.

It made no difference to Rygar. The great red destroyer shot his leg out and kicked Jack right in the chest as soon as he was in range. The blow knocked the guts and stuffing out of the samurai; he grimaced in shock as he crumbled to the floor in pain. Suddenly, Rygar wheeled around and crashed his hand right into Kenshin's side, just as the red-robed samurai was jumping back up from his pit. Kenshin tumbled to the floor and remained still, weary and beaten from devastating injuries. There was still feeling in his body, because he could feel the ground shake in fear as Rygar lumbered towards him.

Kenshin Himura, the dreaded manslayer, the hero of the bloody Meiji Revolution and one of the greatest (if not _the_ greatest) swordsmen in all of Japan, the great Battousai himself… Kenshin Himura discovered that he was too weak to even stand. He had came into the very last battle with the notion of winning, and even though he realized (to some degree) how powerful his foe was, he never imagined the battle would be so fierce. Both he and Jack were torn up, and yet Rygar was untouched. He wasn't even breathing very hard.

Rygar picked Kenshin up by his kimono once he got close enough. He dragged Kenshin's face towards his own and stared at him with flaming green eyes.

"I warned you, manslayer," he growled quietly. "I warned you that you didn't know what you were getting yourself into. I told you that you and I were alike--we were both killers, Kenshin, killers of men and cities and villages. And yet I enjoyed the life and you hated it. I found absolution and you found peace. Our masters taught us well, but unlike you, I was a force of devastation long before any mentor took me under their wing. Remember this, Battousai: I had an entire country, and now an entire _world_, in fear of my name. When somebody mentions Battousai or Himura in a foreign country, nobody runs in terror--and yet when they mention Rygar the Red, the towns become empty just like this one. I warned you, Kenshin, but now it's too late."

With a shout, Rygar threw Kenshin aside, straight into the charging Jack, the Jack who would've ended the battle if he had been allowed to attack from behind. But no, Kenshin and Jack were thrown together into the floor, where they tumbled and came to an agonizing stop, their bodies beaten. Kenshin looked like he had been spent, so it was up to Jack to stand up. Silently, the noble white-robed samurai faced the impossible mountain before him.

__

It is impossible.

No. It is NOT impossible.

Mt. Fatoomb… Aku… a way back home… and now this man…

It is not impossible. It CAN be done. Even if I must fight to the very last drop of my blood, it WILL be done.

"No!" he shouted. "You are not impossible to defeat! As a man who has conquered devils and demons before in the past, so too shall I conquer you! You are nothing more to me than a mountain which must be conquered--and I have faced mountains far deadlier than you! Let us fight!" With the words of self-motivation behind him, Jack ran after Rygar and started swinging his sword long before the older warrior could fight back. Rygar gritted his teeth and held his immense blade out as a shield, but it could not hold off Jack's holy rage for long.

As the samurai fought his greatest foe yet, he began to realize that Rygar had one fatal weakness. As quick and powerful as he was, the weapon he used to fight was far too large and heavy to use in close quarters. It was devastating if he wanted a longer range, but in the tightness of Jack's attack, it could only move around clumsily, like a drunken pendulum of a clock, while Jack's smaller sword weaved around flawlessly. In the end, as his Shao Lin master sometimes said, the mosquito could conquer the lion.

And so, with this weakness in mind, Jack blasted after Rygar with everything he had and a few things he never knew he had within him. It was rare of him to be forced so far--rarer still for him to keep his full strength and speed up in such a crisis--and so it was even more amazing to realize what his body had to offer when he thought he had spent it all. His sword was more like a tornado than a flying weapon; Rygar could only shield himself and growl back in amazement.

At long last, Jack got in a hit and sliced at the mighty man's arm, earning a hiss, like escaped steam. He did not pause to revel in his victory, for he knew this foe would take advantage of every second offered, but continued to drive on, mercilessly attacking with wild abandonment. Even if his heart were to explode and his bones shatter, Samurai Jack would never give up until he _proved_ that even the most impossible warriors were mortal.

Rygar snapped out suddenly and punched Jack square in the face, but as soon as one samurai was forced away, the other came in and took over. Kenshin had recovered a little and watched as his friend bravely fought the holocaust, and noticed as well that the giant did indeed have a weak spot. He jumped in the moment an opportunity arose, swinging his reverse blade sword with as much ferocity as Jack had. Rygar was very strong and sturdy, but there was no possible way he could keep up with two maniacal samurai, one right after the other.

He was able to swat Kenshin away after receiving a great welt on his other arm, but Jack came in and resumed his attack once a space was open. Rygar began to perspire and wheeze as he was being suffocated by the warriors, and soon even his blade began to tremble under their combined weight. He barely shoved Jack away in an effort to regain some steam, but soon _both_ samurai were after him, their swords working in perfect unison. Putting every last shred of their strength and will into their attack, they soared out and shattered Rygar's greatsword into pieces.

The sheer force of their blow sent them recoiling backwards, with scattered pieces of steel shooting out with them. Rygar snarled angrily as his weapon was stolen from him, and glared at the samurai as he looked into the leery face of defeat. He never recalled being defeated in a battle before (his master didn't count), so the feeling of loss was new and bitter to him. He swallowed it down as one would swallow a rock and stood firm under their heavy gaze.

"It doesn't matter," he grumbled. "One way or another, you'll be sent to your grave." The large, flaming man screamed after the samurai as he bounded across the pagoda, hurling his arms at them at a blood-stopping speed. Kenshin and Jack were barely able to scramble out of the way as his arm came in contact with one of the beams that kept the pagoda up. It smashed like wet paper and Rygar turned around to attack again.

He swung after Jack first, letting his fists soar in the air as he screamed and cursed. Unfortunately for Jack, those hands were much faster than the blade he had helped smash, and were nowhere near as clumsy or awkward. He could only weave and dance out of the way for so long, until one blow finally grazed up beside him and another sent him to the floor. Rygar quickly plucked the samurai off the ground and tossed him across the pagoda, straight into another beam which smashed apart as he crashed into it.

Kenshin suddenly jumped out from behind and latched himself onto Rygar's neck. He swerved his reverse blade around and pressed the flat part against Rygar's throat, hoping to suffocate him into unconsciousness. Rygar struggled against Kenshin for a few seconds before he began to run backwards, right into the wall. He crushed poor Kenshin and part of the wall as well, and kept smashing the Battousai until he loosened his grip. Then Rygar plucked his foe up and threw _him_ into one of the beams. It shattered.

"Stop this now!" shouted Jack as he ran out and kicked Rygar's arm. The giant swung out and sent him flooring, and then for no reason at all, turned around and broke another one of the beams. The ceiling of the pagoda began to groan and creak as it lost its supports one by one, and as dust and debris began to fall from the sky, the samurai realized what Rygar was doing.

"You are mad!" he whispered gravely. "You intend to bring this entire building down on us all!"

"That's exactly right," answered Rygar quietly. "I should have done it in the first place. This way, all three of us will die."

"But that's insane!" shouted Kenshin as he tackled Rygar again. The great red conflagration scowled and hoisted both warriors up by their kimonos, staring at them both with eyes of cruel emerald.

"It's perfectly reasonable!" he shouted. "If this place falls, then there will be two less killers in the world! We will both go together, Kenshin Himura, you and I! The two Great Red Battousais of the world shall fall together, as they were meant to! And you," he said, leering at Jack, "will receive a hero's death! Just imagine, falling in battle as you struggle with mortality and the Red Rygar! It's a death many would gladly have, friend! It's better this way!"

Kenshin and Jack were struggling just to breathe, so tight was his grip. Shockwaves of terrible pain washed over their bodies like a sea of flame as Rygar continued to smash them into more pillars. Little by little, the entire place gave way, until it looked as if it really would collapse on them all. Yet the two warriors had not endured demons and revolutions all their lives just to be defeated so easily. Using the last traces of their strength and will, they hoisted themselves up from Rygar's grip and used their swords to cut their kimonos loose.

Rygar wasn't going to let them go so easily, but each warrior swung at him the very moment they were on the ground. Two scars licked across his body, cutting cloth and flesh as it gave freedom and pain. Rygar bowled over, clutching his sides angrily as Kenshin and Jack raced to escape. The giant was stubborn, though, and charged towards the support beam in hopes of bringing the place down in a hurry. He flew straight into it like a missile, and fell to the ground as the pagoda crashed down from above.

"JUMP!!!" Kenshin and Jack smashed right through the paper walls of the pagoda, a deluge of smoke and debris following them as they broke through. The two warriors rolled on the ground and came to a weary stop just two seconds before the pagoda became completely destroyed. They were left to kneel on the ground wearily, and watched as the rubble settled and the dust cleared.

No movement came from the remains. They both let out sighs of relief.

At last, it was all over.

**__**

To be concluded…


	15. Farewell, Brethren

(Insert shameless plug) It wasn't really my intention from the beginning, but I'm going to allow this to be the quasi-prequel to "Mononoke Samurai" and the quasi-sequel to "The Dystopian Map". The three stories basically follow Jack as he finds a surefire way home, has a brief sojourn with Kenshin, then goes home only to face another challenge. But all 3 can be read independently; I just thought it would be a nice addition for anyone who likes my writing. Anyway, this is the last chapter, and like I said, there's going to be a few surprises in store. Just watch. And don't spoil it for anybody.

(By the way, Fumus was a character I used in an earlier original story, though not quite as much as I used him in here. I killed him off in a more humiliating way, even though he ended up killing 3 characters. Melville came out of nowhere, and Rygar is a recurring character in a few other stories, most notably my new Suikoden story. Just thought you'd like to know where I got them)

15: Farewell, Brethren -- The Parting of Jack and Kenshin into Destiny

The quiet air of the abandoned town was interrupted suddenly as rubble and debris were tossed aside and strewn around. Something began to dig its way out of the refuse, blowing out dust like a whale would blow water from its spout. It was like watching a corpse rise from the grave, only this corpse was very much alive, even though the only witnesses to its "death" thought otherwise. The body grumbled and stood upright as it emerged from the tomb it had created, and shook the mess off as it breathed in a deep gulp of air.

The only things that Rygar was missing were his sword and mantle. His dignity was still in place.

Rygar the Red sighed, and gazed around the area for his prey. They were long gone by that point, probably to return the boat before they got back to their ordinary, peaceful lives. He actually smiled--not in malice, but with joy--as he found himself all alone, and loosened the stiff joints in his body as he plowed through the remains of the pagoda he had destroyed. He didn't know _what_ his master would say if he found his tormented student so caked with dust.

"They must think I'm dead by now," he reasoned to himself. "Well, that's okay. Like I said, one less killer in the world. Maybe now I'll actually have an excuse to let them go. It would be best if I left this country and never returned. I only hope that staging my own demise will wipe away some of the waste that has gathered on my name. Now that I'm dead, I can finally get some real peace." He chuckled to himself, and wiped his sleeves off as he lumbered away from the ruins and into the distance--where, true to his word, he was never seen again.

---------------

Jack and Kenshin had said very little since they departed from the ruined town. It took them at least two days to patch up all their wounds, and even then, they still felt unbelievably sore. Both men were used to getting beaten around by enemies, but they had rarely chanced across something with such ghastly power. But unlike the other two killers that had went after them, the one they fought last actually had a good reason to go after them--not for money or thrills, but for some greater good, to ease the burden that other people had and to cleanse his own soul. But he was gone now (they believed)--they were all gone, and with the opposition finally out of the way, Jack and Kenshin really had no reason to be traveling together.

And so, after their exciting and dangerous adventure together, the two warriors had to part. It was going to be inevitable sooner and later--whether by death or voluntary movement, the two men would go down their own paths again and would not meet. Naturally, they would never forget such an experience, and would bring it to their graves as they passed the tale onto younger ears. They decided to part ways, that they did, once their bodies were in good shape and their hearts were ready.

And so, two days passed.

Kenshin and Jack continued to walk alongside each other for a few more minutes, waiting for just the right time to part ways and say their farewells. A long good-bye was unnecessary--they were both warriors and knew how to approach the situation. Besides, they treated each other more like a lost brother than mere strangers who had met and became friends under dire circumstances. They really were very similar, those two samurai from two different ages, coming together to unite their skills and give the world a good show. It was really quite amazing.

Fittingly enough, the two men stopped as they came to a fork in the road. The path to the left led into a hilly area, and the one to the right led into woods. Both looked to be peaceful and easy, a good end to a good brotherhood. Seeing that their opportunity was finally upon them, the two warriors turned and faced each other one last time.

"Well, in many ways, our paths must go in different directions here," said Jack. Kenshin nodded his head.

"Yes. Before we go, though, I would like to thank you for your help. I really didn't expect such kindness from a stranger, _or_ such skill, that I did not. I still don't know that much about you, Mr. Jack, and yet I feel as if I know you better than anyone else. This was a good experience, my friend. I shall miss you. Salute!" Jack smiled and raised his sword to the sky, where it met with Kenshin's in a musical clang. The two warriors sheathed their weapons with great style and clasped hands in a hearty shake. Finally, they bowed to each other, and went on different paths, never to meet again.

"May good fortune and peace be your greatest companion!" exclaimed Jack as he went down the left path. Kenshin smiled and shouted back.

"Thank you! I hope you find your way home safely, my friend!" Jack smiled, and watched as his friend and brother vanished forever in the opposite distance. He knew he would never see him again, but perhaps some day, Kenshin would read the legendary exploits of Samurai Jack, and would remember his friend. Either way, history was about to change.

"Aku," swore Jack as he hugged the hilt of his blade, "now it is down to you and I! We shall meet again soon, my old enemy! I suggest you pray hard before that day arrives, if you can."

----------

Kenshin Himura breathed in the sweet scent of the hilly countryside as he wandered down the path he chose. It was a good road, dusty and well traveled, with plenty of friendly people to say hello to along the way. There was a town coming up a few miles further down, and the scenery that towered over him and around him made his smile broad. A great mountainous hill, lush and pulsating with emerald magic, stood watch over the landscape as a single red-robed man continued to wander. The day was beautiful and the sky was clear with just a few traces of white.

So, needless to say, Kenshin was a bit surprised when he heard the sound of thunder.

The world trembled and shook as a great clasp of power erupted from out of nowhere. The heavens exploded into colors, snakes of electricity shot out everywhere, and a dark hole yawned open in the cheery air. Kenshin stared with wide eyes as the mysterious vortex appeared and widened; it was like he was receiving a vision from heaven, and the very angels themselves were coming down to speak with him. What he got instead was no angel, but something so indescribable and surprising that he was rendered totally speechless.

A _man_ came out of the thin air--out of the black hole, actually--and landed on the ground with a crash, sending the dust scattering. Kenshin's eyes became as wide as oranges as he stared at the man that emerged from the magical field. He was a huge guy, big and tall with a chest as broad as a barrel and arms thick like logs. He had a small bushy mustache, orange like fire, and a domed head lightly peppered with hair. The man had a great white shirt on, with what seemed to be a musical instrument slung over his shoulder and a belt made out of cougar's skin. Strangely, he wore what looked like a striped red skirt, and one of his legs was a metallic peg. When he opened his big green eyes and grinned with his big crooked teeth, Kenshin froze with awe.

"ME FRIEND!!!" shouted the man in a loud voice. Kenshin just stared as the big man walked over to him and slapped his shoulder. "Ach, ah dinnae think ah'd ever find ye again, old buddy! Ah thought ah had lost ye forever when ya went off to face Aku! Ah was mighty fortunate that the clan druid could conjure up a portal in time to send me back here with ya! Ach, an' what a mess ah've gotten mahself inta this time! Ah couldn'o think ah anyone better-suited to face this task with than yew!!"

Kenshin was nearly ready to faint. His eyes were about to pop right out of his head. Suddenly, the big man with the strange accent jerked back in surprise as he realized his mistake.

"Wait a minute! YER NOT ME FRIEND!!!!"

Kenshin still couldn't say a word. The man shrugged and resumed slapping his shoulders.

"Ah well, ye'll do in a pinch!! Come on, laddie, ah'll take yew with me an' explain on the way!!" Kenshin felt himself being dragged away by the loud man, his face still in frozen shock over what he had seen. He could only flail and flap helplessly as he followed the strange fellow. "Ach, it's a good thing ah found yew out here, laddie!" exclaimed said fellow as he rushed Kenshin along. "Like ah said, you wouldn't _believe_ the trouble ah'm in now! Come on!!" And just like that, the man leaped up into the portal in time, dragging Kenshin Himura along with him on yet another wild adventure.

****

The End


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